


Easy as Herding Cats

by nerdy_cait05



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: BUT LIKE MOSTLY FLUFF, But everyone loves her, Cats, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Grocery Store Adventures, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Some angst, bg hunay, keith's grandma is crazy, klance grandma au, some bg established shallura, some trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-05-02 05:23:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14537583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdy_cait05/pseuds/nerdy_cait05
Summary: When Lance McClain signed up to help take care of an old woman in the nearby neighborhood, he wasn't sure what to expect.  But it wasn't this.The daily adventures of an Angry Boy, a Chicken McNugget, and your local Old Cat Lady as they navigate getting through life, finding love, and cleaning out litter boxes.





	1. January

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, I am so excited to be sharing this with you! Ever since @a-zzurra made their post on tumblr I've been wanting to write this AU. I hope it's as fun and exciting for you to read as it has been for me to write and plan out.
> 
> NOTE: I am neither Latina nor Japanese. If any of my Spanish or Japanese phrasing/wording/spelling is incorrect, please let me know! I have a basic knowledge of how both languages work, but I am not fluent in either. Thank you very much for understanding, and I will do my best to be conscientious of any uses of the languages.

Lance rang the doorbell and braced for impact, rubbing his hands together for warmth.  He wore his best smile and tried not to think of the sleep he could be getting right now in his warm dorm bed, opting instead to think of his mother and how proud of him she would be.

 

_ “Oh mijo that’s wonderful!  Helping older people in their communities and taking care of them; tu Abuelita Rosa would be so proud!” _

 

And then she’d squish his cheeks together and say how sweet of a boy he was, etc. etc.

 

So, here Lance stood on the porch of the home of some random old woman he had never met, and she couldn’t even bother to answer the doorbell in the freezing cold.  Lance tried the chime again, hearing it go off through the thin red painted door. He waited another 30 seconds but still heard no movement from inside the house he looked up at the number of the house, then the paperwork in his hand, making sure he had the right address.  Yup. did he get the time wrong? He checked his phone. Nope. 8:00 AM, just like the email had said she was expecting him.

 

He took another look around the porch, trying to see if there was a window he could look into when a startling thought occurred to him.

 

“Oh my god she’s dead.”  Panic welled up in Lance’s chest, “She’s fallen down the stairs and broken all of her bones,” he ran his hands through his hair, “Oh my god.  I’m going to have to break into the house to find the body, call the paramedics, and then I’ll be a suspect in her murder and―”

 

A loud noise followed by indistinct shouting from the street pulled Lance out of his spiraling thoughts.  He whirled around towards the sound.

 

“I’m dreaming.  I have got to be dreaming.”

 

Walking down the street towards him was the smallest and oldest Asian woman he had seen in his life, and she was walking... _ cats? _

 

Lance stood there for a moment, just staring at this woman, because she was indeed walking four cats, each one with their own color of harness and leash, all of them meowing and bumping into each other as they sniffed at everything.

 

The old woman yelled at each cat quickly and urgently in what Lance realized―thanks to his middle school anime phase―was Japanese.  All at once he thought that this insane old lady must be a neighbor to the woman whose front porch he loitered on. He remembered a few of his classmates saying they had signed up for the same program as him and had been assigned houses on this very same street.  It seemed that old people liked to settle near each other so they could all go crazy together.

 

The panic from before flared up again in Lance as he ran down the porch steps, “Excuse me!  Ma’am?” he called out as he approached the woman and her cats, “Do you know who lives at this house?” he pointed back to the bright red door, “It’s a matter of life and death!”

 

Okay, that probably wasn’t the best way to introduce himself or explain the situation, but Lance was nothing if not a drama queen.

 

“Oh now what?  Has Boy done something reckless?” the woman yelled in response.  It took her a second to look up at him because her cats decided all at once to rub against her legs, but once she did she stopped entirely in her tracks.  She looked him up, then down, then up again, peering at his face.

 

After an uncomfortable pause Lance felt he ought to speak, “Ma’am, I don’t know who you’re talking about, but I’m supposed to be meeting the woman who lives in this house today and she hasn’t answered the door.  I’m afraid something happened to her.”

 

The woman didn’t respond immediately and kept staring at him, deep brown eyes seeming to try and find a way into his soul.

 

“You must be Cuban boy they talk about.  Pants McNugget, yes?”

 

“What?” Lance was speechless and confused.

 

The old woman nodded to herself. “Yes, you McNugget.  All bone and skin, tall and leggy. Follow me.”

 

The woman tugged on her cats’ harnesses and bushed past Lance before he could compose himself.

 

“ _ What? _ ”

 

“Follow!” the woman called again, walking up the front porch steps to the house Lance had been loitering by for the last 10 minutes.  She then pulled out from her coat pocket a key, unlocked the door, and walked right inside, leaving the door open behind her.

 

In a daze Lance obeyed the woman’s instruction and walked back up to the house, stepped inside, and shut the door behind him.  He looked around at the hallway and first caught the smell of cat and curry, then saw the hardwood floor, the floral wallpaper covering every inch of wall, and lastly, the infinite amount of picture frames hung on the walls.  It was like there had been a sale at the local arts and crafts store and someone had decided to purchase every single gold, tacky, and ornate frame and put it on their wall. All shapes and sizes, and none of them filled. None.  Every photo had the stereotypical stock photos the companies put in the frames to make you want them.

 

A round of loud meowing brought Lance back to reality, and he gingerly took off his shoes before walking any further.  He then followed the sound of the meowing into the kitchen and came face to face with the old woman again, who was now rummaging through her pantry and cooing at her cats.

 

“McNugget boy,” she barked when he came in, “No just stare at cats.  Food is in drawer. Bowls at back door. Fill and feed cats. They will like you then.”

 

Quickly Lance scrambled to do what he was told and fed the four cats as they purred and sniffed and rubbed all against him.  He noticed that each cat had a different color of collar and that the bowls all matched said colors: Red, Blue, Green, and Yellow.  There was a black bowl as well, but as Lance could only see 4 cats, he left that one empty.

 

Once he’d finished Lance stood and turned to get a look at the woman and her kitchen.  Because that’s who this house belonged to. This crazy cat woman was his college assignment.

 

Lance cleared his throat, “Ma’am, I think I should probably introduce myself.  My name is Lance McClain; I was assigned by Garrison University to be your helping hand on Tuesdays and Thursdays every week for the spring semester.”

 

“Bah!” the woman huffed, not even bothering to turn from the pantry and look at him, “I know this.  It why I let you feed my cats. Nobody feed my cats except me. And boy. But nobody else.”

 

“Ma’am, I’m afraid I’m confused.”

 

“And no more of this  _ ma’am  _ business!” she yelled again, “My name is Momo, and that is what you will call me, McNugget!”

 

“Ma’am―I mean―miss Momo, I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot here.  How do you know who I am?”

 

It was then that Momo stopped what she was doing and stared at him.  Long and hard, like she was trying to dissect him.

 

“I know who you are because of Garrison.  They sent me many faces, and you were best option.”  Momo then returned to whatever she was looking for in the pantry and swore loudly. “Now get in here and grab this curry for me.  My tall grandson put it where I can’t reach!”

 

And that was how Lance started his new job.  Every Tuesday and Thursday, Lance would take the morning bus to Momo’s neighborhood and prepare himself for an adventure of epic proportions.  Momo was an energetic woman who, even at the age of 84, Lance was sure could whip his ass, no matter how much she fed him.

 

Each morning began the same: he’d ring the doorbell, the cat with the blue collar would walk through the cat door and meow until he picked her up, and Momo would answer the door.

 

“Are you hungry, McNugget?”

 

“No, Momo.”

 

“You’re skinnier than before.  I fix you meat.”

 

And she would.  And Lance would eat enough to get him through the rest of the day, but not near enough to satisfy the old woman.

 

After he’d eaten Lance would then feed the four cats that were always milling about the house.  He soon learned that their names all corresponded with the color of their collars, and in turn their food bowls.  How the cats were able to tell which color was theirs and  _ only  _ theirs, Lance never figured out.  He just knew they all knew exactly where to go and knew not to touch the bowls that weren’t theirs.

 

Like their names, each cat’s personality was unique and different.  The one with the blue collar, Ao, was the most extroverted cat Lance had ever met; she was constantly beside him when he was in the house, trailing behind him and meowing when she wanted attention.  The cats with the yellow and green collars, Ki and Midori, were nearly inseparable. They were almost always together, running around the house and causing things to crash to the floor at the most inopportune times.  The cat Lance saw the least of, though, was the cat with the red collar. His name was Akairo. He was always aloof, watching Lance and Ao from afar as they walked through the house, and every time Lance tried to reach out towards the cat his ears would lay flat and defensive.  Needless to say, Lance didn’t try to pet him very much.

 

Another thing about Momo and her cats was the mystery behind the fifth food bowl that he was never instructed to fill, but was always sitting out.  Sometime Lance would catch Akairo sitting near the bowl and staring out into space, thinking of whatever cats thought about. Lance thought of asking Momo about this, but there would be times he’d see her watching Akairo with a complicated look on her face and thought better of it.

 

And so each Tuesday and Thursday went.  Sometimes he and Momo would go out grocery shopping, or she’d have Lance pick up something for her from Starbucks, but mostly they’d stay in the small, wallpaper and frame-covered house and watch Antiques Roadshow.

 

More often than not, there would be an item on the show Momo would have a fit over, saying that it was too recent of a piece to be considered an antique, and what were these  _ bakas _ thinking?

 

“Momo, that jewelry box is from 1942.” Lance would say, calmly petting Ao asleep on his lap.

 

“And the point?”

 

“1942 was over 70 years ago, Momo.  It’s an old piece.”

 

And Momo would pause for a moment, thinking, before relaxing back into her reclining chair with a huff, muttering something in Japanese.

 

But most of the time, they’d tell each other stories.  Usually Momo told stories of her childhood or her life back in Japan, and sometimes she’d ask Lance about his life and family.  It didn’t take much prompting from either of them to get the stories flowing, as Momo had the decades of life to recount, and Lance had the enormity of his family to draw from.  He told more stories of his cousins, siblings, and parents than he even realized he knew.

 

“Now, tell me,” Momo said around the 3rd week he had been coming over, “Do you have a person?”

 

Lance, who had been distracted petting Ao and thinking about his upcoming English assignment and not paying attention sat up, “What?”

 

“Do you have a person?” she repeated, “You know, someone who hold and care for you and make babies with!”

 

Lance felt himself blush a little at that last phrase, “No.  I don’t have a person right now.”

 

Momo exclaimed something and threw her hands in the air, “No person?  How is that possible? When I twenty, I already give birth to two children!”

 

Lance leaned across the couch towards her recliner where she sat, “You were  _ how old? _ ”

 

“Twenty.” she said matter-of-factly, “I met Ri at age 7.  We married at 18. Then two children:  _ pop! _ ” she looked hard at Lance, “Surely you are not so ugly no girls like you!  You tall and tan! A little skinny, maybe.”

 

“Momo, really, I don’t need to be having babies anytime soon!” Lance waved his hands frantically, “And I’ll have you know that in high school I had girls and guys falling for me left and right!”

 

This was only half true.  Boys and girls  _ did  _ fall because of Lance, but not because he was a suave romantic.  Most of the time it was because his legs or arms were sticking so far out under the desks or on the bus that people tripped over him, but Momo didn’t need to know that.

 

“Girls  _ and _ boys?” Momo’s gaze sharpened, and Lance felt his stomach drop.

 

_ ‘Oh no,’  _ he thought,  _ ‘here it comes.’ _

 

“Then you must not leave your house!” she chuckled, “For no one to notice you.”

 

Lance sat in silence for a moment, slightly stunned.  He had expected a  _ much  _ different reaction from this woman who still thought 1945 was last year sometimes.

 

“You should meet my grandsons,” Momo added, almost like an afterthought, “They will be good friends for you.”

 

“You have grandsons?  Why don’t they stay and take care of you?” Lance asked, feeling a bit like he was suffering from conversational whiplash.

 

Momo barked a single laugh, “Because they’re terrible!  Always busy, always reckless.” but there was a soft smile on her face that reminded Lance of his mother when she’d talk about his older siblings, “Besides, I can take care of myself well enough!”

 

“Do you they live close enough to visit, at least?”

 

“Sometimes.  Boy more than Cheeto.”

 

Lance blinked, “I’m sorry,  _ who  _ now?”

 

“Cheeto.  It what Boy calls my older grandson when he is mad.  I am always mad at him.”

 

“Why are you always mad at―er―Cheeto?” Lance bit his lip to keep from laughing.

 

“Because he tries to be father and brother to Boy.  You cannot be both.” Momo folded her hands in her lap, “Also he makes me eat salad when he visits.   _ Baka _ .” 

 

Lance  _ did  _ laugh at that, “You sound like  _ mi abuelita _ back in Cuba.  She hated eating anything someone told hr was the healthier option.”

 

“Smart lady.”

 

“Yeah, she really was.”

 

There was a pause then as Lance remembered all of the times his  _ abuelita _ would feed the dogs her salads and broccoli under the table and out of his  _ mami’s _ sight.  She would always catch his eye when she did and wink like they were sharing a secret.

 

“McNugget?”

 

“Yes, Momo?”

 

“You no have Gramma anymore?”

 

“No, Momo.  She died a long time ago.”

 

Lance watched Momo carefully as she looked at him and pursed her lips.  After a moment, she nodded like she had decided something.

 

“Then I shall be your new one.”

 

Lance was taken aback, “Momo?”

 

“No,” the old woman shook her head, “You call me Gramma now.  You don’t have one, so I be one for you. Every boy needs a Gramma.”

 

Lance flopped back into the couch, a little taken aback by this sudden turn of events.  His  _ abuelita _ had been one of his favorite people in the world, and when she had gotten sick Lance had been devastated.  Of course, there was nothing the doctors could really do, they just told his parents that she was getting old and her body was running its final course.  He thought about how nice it would be to have a grandmother again. Albeit a short, foul-tempered, Japanese grandmother, but a grandmother nonetheless. And he realized that even though Mom had her cats and the ladies on the block with her, she was alone a lot of the time.  So maybe having another “grandson” would be a good thing for her to not be so alone.

 

“Okay,” Lance finally said with a smile, “I’ll call you Gramma from now on, with one condition.” he held up a finger and pointed it at Momo, “My name is not McNugget.  It’s Lance. Or Lancey Lance, if you must have a nickname for me. You stop saying McNugget, you can be my Gramma.” he leaned back into the couch cushions and turned back to the TV.

 

He could hear the smile in her voice, “Okay, Lancey Lance.”


	2. February

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonding, Boys, Battlestar Galactica

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy. Crap. The love you guys are giving this fic is beyond words I am so overcome with joy and love. Seriously, your comments have given me life and this story new breath. Thank you!!!!

“Dude, that’s like your fourth espresso in 12 hours.  How are you not dead right now?”

 

Lance groaned loudly as he eased into a chair in the Garrison University Library, “Hunk, please.  We both know Pidge drinks at least one an hour, I think I’m fine.”

 

“It’s true,” Pidge didn’t even look up from her computer, her round glasses reflecting the screen’s light, “Though, I’m already dead inside, so it doesn’t make a real difference for me.”

 

“Pidge,” Hunk sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Please tell me you got at  _ least _ two hours of sleep last night.”

 

“Are you asking for the truth or do you want a pretty lie?”

 

Lance sat back with a smile and watched his two friends go back and forth about sleep and caffeine habits.  Hunk was the definition of a mom friend, always making sure that Lance and Pidge were eating and getting proper sleep.  It wasn’t hard for him to keep Lance on track, seeing as they were best friends and then decided to room together this year.  Pidge was a little harder for Hunk to wrangle though, seeing tended to do whatever he wanted since her brother Matt graduated last year and moved onto their sister campus for those going towards their masters.

 

“Hunk, if you really wanted me to get sleep, why did you sign us up for that extra geology course this semester?” Pidge yelled, earning a sharp hiss from the students around them.

 

“You did  _ not _ !” Lance grinned and turned to Hunk, “You big flirty genius!”

 

Hunk’s face flushed a deep brown, “That’s not―I―” he started fiddling with the pen in his lap. “I’ll have you know that geology is a fascinating subject.”

 

Pidge’s eyebrow arched, “I’m missing something.”

 

“Hunk’s got a boulder-sized crush on this archeology major who’s taking that same class with you two.” Lance enlightened his bespeckled friend.

 

Pidge’s grin turned absolutely evil as Hunk spluttered and blushed in protest.

 

“No!  She’s just―a girl who I think is really pretty and smart and happens to share the same admiration for rocks as I do!”

 

“Suuuuure, buddy,” Lance rolled his eyes and took another sip of his espresso.  Just then his phone buzzed and he pulled it out to see he’d gotten a snapchat request.  He laughed once, immediately recognizing the name and bitmoji. “Oh my god.”

 

“What?” Pidge asked.

 

“You guys know that old lady I’ve been helping out these past few weeks?” Lance asked, still laughing, “It looks like she set up a snapchat.” he flipped his phone around to show them.

 

“How old did you say this woman was?” Pidge asked, “Like 90?”

 

“Eighty-four, actually,” Lance corrected, “and she doesn’t let me forget it.”

 

“How does she even know what a snapchat is?” Hunk looked between him and Pidge, “I didn’t think anyone over 50 had Iphones.”

 

“I told her about it,” Lance said proudly, “I was going through stories the other day and showed her Matt’s story when he convinced that Rolo guy to eat a whole lemon.  She thought it was hilarious how stupid we young adults are.”

 

“Okay, that was pretty funny, I gotta admit,” Hunk agreed, “The way his face pinched up?  Iconic.”

 

“Is that vindication I hear in your voice, Hunk?” Pidge asked, “Never took you for one to hold a grudge.”

 

“Well,” Hunk folded his arms, “I have valid reasons.”

 

“Last year this guy named Rolo was a bit of a jerk to anyone who didn’t fit his ‘criteria of coolness’ or whatever,” Lance explained, “Plus he made that archeology girl lose most of her research notes when when it was really windy last semester.”

 

“He didn’t even apologise!” Hunk said, “I mean, what kind of guy does that?”

 

“Wait, is this the same guy whose girlfriend―”

 

“I don’t like to talk about it,” Lance interrupted Pidge before she could say more.

 

“Damn, this guy sounds like a jerk,” she said, “What was my idiot brother doing with him?”

 

“He’s your brother, shouldn’t you know?” Lance said.

 

Pidge shrugged.

 

“But, anyway, you said that Momo found you on snapchat?” Hunk asked, “How’d she figure out how to set it up?  I mean,  _ I  _ can barely figure it out with all the new updates.”

 

“I think one of her grandsons helped her set it up,” Lance said, looking at the bitmoji profile, “She said that they visit her sometimes when they’re not too busy.”

 

“Huh,” Hunk scratched at his trademark headband, “I wonder if they have families and kids.”

 

“One of them might be in college,” Lance pondered aloud, “She calls one of them ‘Boy’, but I don’t know if that’s just because he’s the youngest or if he’s still actually a kid.”

 

“Whatever the case, I’m sure you could get the scoop from Momo.” Pidge waved off the conversation, “Every grandma I know loves to brag about her grandkids to anyone that’ll listen.”

 

Lance and Hunk nodded in agreement.

 

“So,” Lance clapped his hands together, “What’re we studying for today?”

 

***

The next week it rained and sleeted nearly every day, so Lance had to go to the grocery store for Momo by himself on Thursday.  Usually the two of them would load up into the tiny Honda Civic Momo owned and terrorize the local market as they debated what was on the grocery list.  Lance would always insist upon getting birthday cake oreos, to which Momo would smack him upside the head and say that they were getting plain double-stuffed, or nothing.  Lance also would try to sneak in a few more vegetables than were on the list originally and Momo would always complain about the blandness of them and how broccoli would be her undoing.

 

“When I little girl my brother ate broccoli and  _ died _ .”

 

“Gramma, your brother died of radiation poisoning, not food poisoning.”

 

“Same difference!”

 

Needless to say, the pair of them were threatened on numerous occasions of being thrown out due to their boisterous behavior, which is probably why he saw the employees all tense and then relax as he entered the store alone.

 

Once he was finished and headed back to Momo’s house, it struck Lance that he had no idea how Momo got her groceries before he’s started coming over.  Had she driven herself all the time? Did her grandsons do the grocery run for her? He had no idea; he just knew that some of these bags would’ve been too heavy for any old person to carry by themselves and hoped she had some help before him.

 

When he pulled into the garage, Lance was surprised to see a motorcycle parked on the far side of the storage space.  He didn’t remember seeing the bright red vehicle before he left, and when he saw that the tires were still wet he realized that it was probably one of Momo’s grandsons’.  She hadn’t mentioned that either of them were coming over today, but it struck Lance that they probably came over whenever they could.

 

Lance grabbed the grocery bags from the trunk and entered the house, Ao the cat immediately coming to greet him with a meow.

 

“Gramma, I’m back!” Lance yelled, “I made sure to get extra RedBulls this time―” he stopped.

 

There was a guy in the kitchen.  More specifically, there was a guy leaning on Momo’s countertop, and Lance’s initial shock at seeing him was pushed aside by inky black bangs and fingerless gloves.  The guy looked up, and Lance’s lungs disconnected from his chest along with all coherent thoughts. He was stunning and striking in a way Lance only thought possible in action movies, complete with a leather jacket and eyes that locked right onto his, swallowing him instantly.  He didn’t even notice the guy was moving until he heard the  _ click _ of a switchblade opening.

 

Instantly those eyes spat Lance out with a snarl as the guy pointed the small but threatening blade at him.

 

“Who the hell are you?” the guy demanded.

 

Lance looked from the impossible-seeming blade back to the guy, and promptly felt his stomach join his lungs on the ground.

 

“AAAH!” he shrieked, “HELP!  THIS GUY’S GOT A KNIFE!”

 

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY GRAMMA’S HOUSE?” the guy yelled back.

 

“WHAT IS THIS SHOUTING?” Momo yelled, emerging from the hallway.

 

“MOMO RUN THIS GUY’S GOT A KNIFE!”

 

“GRAMMA HIDE WHILE I TAKE CARE OF THIS GUY!”

 

Momo didn’t seem perturbed by anything either of the young men said and blinked, taking in the scene.

 

“McNugget, stop screaming.  Boy, put the knife down, you baka.” she walked between the two of them and smacked the knife guy upside the head.

 

Knife Guy let out a grunt as Momo passed, “Baa-chan, who is this guy?”

 

“This is Lancey Lance, that single handsome talented single helpful boy that I told you about who’s single and likes boys.” Momo replied, “Lancey Lance, this is my grandson Keith who is reckless and a moron and single and likes boys.” hse gestured to Knife Guy.

 

Lance couldn’t believe this. “ _ This  _ is your grandson?”

 

He also didn’t miss the once-over Knife Guy-grandson-Keith gave him, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” he scoffed and sheathed his blade.

 

Now that he wasn’t afraid of Momo being stabbed by some rando, Lance felt a prickle of annoyance at this guy’s tone. “You always this grumpy, pretty boy?”  He looked Keith up and down slowly, dragging his eyes across the other’s wiry and athletic figure, making sure he knew Lance was looking.

 

Something flared behind Keith’s eyes as he stormed around the counter and grabbed Lance’s jacket collar with both hands, bringing their faces incredibly close.  Keith was just a few inches shorter than him and  _ ay por dios _ this was not a good time to realize Keith smelled like rain and gasoline. “Are you always this pretentious?” his breath was hot on Lance’s face, and something in his gut squirmed.

 

“Are  _ you _ always this antagonistic?”

 

“You’re the one who broke into my gramma’s house!”

 

“ _ You  _ threatened me with a knife!”

 

Momo giggled from across the kitchen, “I should put this on the chatsnap.”

 

Being reminded of Momo’s presence made Lance flush with embarrassment and leap back from Keith as he did the same, ears bright pink.

 

“Gramma, it’s called snapchat,” Lance gently corrected her, “And please don’t.  I’d hate for all of your friends to see your grandson get his ass handed to him in your own kitchen.”

 

“I’m sorry, who was the one shrieking like they were in  _ Psycho _ not 20 seconds ago?” Keith accused.

 

“You were gonna cut me with a  _ knife _ !”

 

“That was a bit much, Boy.” Momo agreed.

 

“Baa-chan!” Keith huffed, “You know how I’ve always wanted to fight an intruder in honorable combat!”

 

Lance snorted, “Okay Zuko.”

 

“ _ What did you just call me _ ?”

 

“You heard me, emo mullet!”

 

Momo cleared her throat and Lance realized again with a flush how close he and Keith had gotten.

 

“Boy, put those groceries away before they spoil,” she said, gesturing to the forgotten plastic bags, “And Lancey Lance, put on Antiques Roadshow for me.  Boy has worse luck than me with the TV.”

 

Keith looked surly as he pushed past Lance to get the grocery bags, and he didn’t miss the strength and composure Keith held in his figure.  Lance also felt eyes on him as he walked into the living room after Momo, but he thought that might be his newfound paranoia and shrugged it off.

 

***

The rest of the day went by without too much more excitement, though Keith wasn’t sure how his Gramma could stand this Lance guy.  It was like every word out of his pretty mouth was venom, poisonous only to Keith and he couldn’t resist biting back. And every time Lance would walk into another room, or stretch his incredibly long limbs, or laugh at a ridiculous antique or comment from Momo it would make Keith angry.  Well, more angry than usual.  _ God _ , he was a little like Prince Zuko.

 

But, he reasoned with himself, there was no way he could ever be  _ completely _ like Zuko; he could never date someone like Mei, much less marry a guy like that.  Nothing against her at all, but Keith had always had a crush on Sokka growing up if he was being honest.  He was funny and sarcastic, yet one of the most caring characters in the show who wanted to protect and provide.  Gotta love a guy like that. It also didn’t hurt that he looked great in a dress in that one episode in season one.

 

After several hours of Antiques Roadshow and Keith managing  _ not _ to kill him, Lance announced that he had to head out if he wanted to make his bus on time.  Keith followed him to the door to make sure it shut behind him.

 

“Though with the way the weather is, you never know  _ when _ it’ll get there.” Lance sighed and shucked on his coat, boots, backpack, and bright blue umbrella from the entryway.

 

“Have a good weekend, Lancey Lance!” Momo yelled from the living room.

 

“You too, Gramma!” Lance yelled back.  Then, seeing Keith studying him, he winked, “Later, mullet.” and shut the door behind him.

 

Keith stood in the entryway for a full minute before turning back around and joining Momo in the living room, trying to figure out why he wanted to chase after the tall boy.  He should be relieved he was finally gone.  And he was; Keith felt like a tension in his gut had dissipated once he left, but he also felt strangely hollow.

 

Keith plopped onto the couch with a sigh and mindlessly listened as the narrating voice-over explained in great detail why this type of vase was special and whatever.

 

“He is a handsome boy, yes?”

 

Keith was startled by Momo’s comment, “What?”

 

“Lancey Lance.  He is quite handsome, yes?”

 

Keith crossed his arms and sunk deeper into the couch. “I guess, to some people.” he thought about Lance’s broad shoulders and the blinding blue of his eyes when he got close enough to see them and the way his hair stuck up in the back and―

 

Keith could feel his neck burning and Momo’s eyes on him. “Baa-chaaaaaaaaaaan,” he whined.

 

Momo got up from her chair and grabbed his ear in a hard pinch. “Boy, I know you want to butter his bread roll.”

 

“Baa-chan―ow!” he flinched and tried to pull away, but Momo had a grip like steel, “What?”

 

“I’m not an ass dumb!” she yelled, “You like boys, and he is a good handsome nice boy.”

 

“Gramma, just because he’s cute doesn’t mean I like him!”

 

“You wish to see him again, though?”

 

Keith paused before responding, and that was all Momo needed to release his ear and waddle back to her recliner.

 

“He’ll be back on Tuesday,” she said, “Come visit me after you see your brother.  I am an old woman, and Lancey Lance could use help sometimes.”

 

Keith sighed.  He had been meaning to be more intentional about visiting more often, and if this random guy was gonna be here, he might as well make sure he doesn’t kill her, right?

 

“I will, Baa-chan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I self-projecting my love for Sokka onto Keith?
> 
> You bet your butt I am!


	3. March (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shenanigans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you for everyone supporting this work; your comments make my day so much brighter and you all are amazing!
> 
> *!CONTENT WARNING!*   
> This chapter contains content that could be triggering to some, including a near motor accident and description of another character having a panic attack.  
> If you wish to, you can skip/skim starting at the line "You're a tad sadistic," and end with "Lance waited for a moment, watching Keith as he collected himself"  
> Thank you, and stay safe, my Paladins!

“Shiro, I swear, it’s like he’s got some personal vendetta against me!” Keith said as he wedged the phone between his ear and shoulder. “I mean, we’ve known each other for over a month and he  _ still _ won’t let up.”

 

_ “Didn’t you pull your knife on him when you met, though?”  _ Shiro asked on the other end.

 

“Well, yeah, but I thought he was gonna hurt Baa-chan!” Keith picked up and orange and began peeling it.

 

_ “In a baseball tee and ripped jeans?”  _ Shiro’s voice was all-knowing,  _ “Sounds like a classic uniform of a serial killer to me.” _

 

“Okay, so I didn’t pay that close attention when―wait,” Keith set the fruit down, “How’d you know what he was wearing?”

 

_ “You told me at least three times how he always wears the same ripped jeans when you see him, and that his blue baseball tee is distracting.” _

 

“When do I say that?”

 

_ “Every time we talk on the phone.” _

 

Keith’s phone buzzed with a notification and he pulled it from his ear so he could see what it was.

 

**_Snapchat from Lancey Lance_ **

 

_ “Keith?”  _ Shiro asked.

 

“What?  Yeah,” Keith put his phone back between his shoulder and ear to continue peeling his orange, “Sorry, got a snapchat from someone.”

 

_ “ _ Someone,  _ eh?” _

 

“You’re as bad as Baa-chan.” Keith huffed.

 

_ “Sorry, sorry, it’s just―I haven’t seen you like this in a long time, and I’m happy for you.” _

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Keith tried to keep his voice level, “But it better not be the feelings talk.  We already had that when I was in middle school and dad taught me the birds and bees.”

 

He could feel Shiro’s shudder through the line,  _ “Yeah, that was a traumatic experience.” _

 

Keith laughed, “I still remember his face when I told him I thought girls were weird and that I didn’t like them.”

 

_ “He thought you’d change your mind when you got older like I did,”  _ Shiro chuckled.

 

“Joke’s on him, I guess.  Who knew that I’d be gay?”

 

There was a silence between the two brothers.

 

_ “You know he’d be proud of you, right?”  _ Shiro said,  _ “You know that Dad would’ve been completely behind you no matter what.” _

 

Keith didn’t immediately answer.  The topic of their father was always a mixed bag of emotions, especially for Keith.

 

“Yeah, I know,” he finally answered his brother, “Hey I better go, Baa-chan asked me to help set up for her tea party with the other ladies in the neighborhood today.”

 

_ “Keith―”  _

 

“Love you talk later.” Keith hung up before Shiro could finish.  He wasn’t in the mood for a lecture, not today. Plus, he hadn’t been lying; if he wanted to make it to Momo’s house in time he had to leave quickly.

 

He quickly stuffed the orange slices in his mouth and opened the snap Lance had sent.  It was a picture of his bus stop with the temperature filter, yelling that it was too cold out for March.  Keith took a quick snap back to keep their streak alive and threw out the orange peel, licking the remaining juice off of his fingers.  He couldn’t remember if leftover orange was too acidic for cats or not, but decided that living with Momo was testament enough to the cats’ resilience against random substances.  He then grabbed his backpack from the floor beside his shoes and roommates’ extensive pairs of spikes and lacrosse sticks, cursing the caked mud from them.

 

He stepped outside and could see what Lance was complaining about; it felt like it was lower than 30 degrees (farenheit) out, and the wind wasn’t helping matters.  But Keith had never really minded the cold, or the hot, or really any kind of weather too badly. Nature was already beautiful and confusing, might as well appreciate whatever you get.

 

As he walked out to his bike Keith was hailed by at least 4 different people who knew him from the cross country and lacrosse teams.  It was weird having so many people know who he was and acknowledge him instead of steering clear like they did in middle school and high school, where he was almost always accompanied by a teacher or Shiro.  Turns out college gave him the freedom and direction he needed to succeed and stay out of trouble.

 

Well, most of the time.

 

Keith finally got to his motorcycle and noticed the telltale yellow note of WARNING on it, saying he had parked without a permit.  Whoops. Didn’t look like a ticket, though, so he crumpled the paper up and shoved it in his backpack.

 

Driving his motorcycle was one of Keith’s favorite things in life.  It didn’t matter how many times he had done it, every time he’d straddle the vehicle and had it rumble to life beneath him, Keith loved it all the same.  Each time he’d buckle his helmet, push down his visor, and release the clutch it was like a part of his soul was returned to him. The pavement zooming beneath him and the cold wind against his ankles was better than any drug.

 

All too soon he was at Momo’s house, and the only thing that kept Keith from taking a drive around the block was seeing Lance as he walked from the street corner bus stop to the house, his breath puffing in small bursts of vapor in the cold morning air.

 

Keith pulled his bike up beside Lance on the road, “Hey stranger, need a lift?” he called.

 

He could hear Lance’s scoff over the rumble of his bike, “I’d like to live through the day, thank you!”

 

“I’m hurt that you think me an unsuitable chauffeur!”

 

“Oh please,” Lance rolled his eyes, “You know what doctors call guys who ride motorcycles?  Walking heart donors! They would say brain donors, too, but those are usually so finished they’re all but useless.”

 

“Well, the amount of information in  _ your _ brain could be stored in a paper airplane, so it’s not only guys like me that have useless ones.”

 

“Oh yeah, Mullet?  Well the amount of information in your brain is―” Keith watched as Lance stuttered, trying to get out his thoughts, “less than that!”

 

Keith couldn’t help but snort, “Good one, you come up with that yourself?”

 

“Oh whatever.”

 

Eventually the two of them made it to Momo’s house, Keith on his bike, Lance on his feet, and they walked in through the front together.

 

“Gramma, I’m here!” Lance called.

 

“Morning, Baa-chan!”  Keith said, taking off his shoes.  The cat with the blue collar, Ao, appeared and immediately began rubbing at Lance’s legs, purring so loudly Keith could hear it when he stood back up.

 

“About time!” Momo yelled down the hallway, “I still have to sprinkle the cocaine on my lemon tarts!”

 

“The what now?” Keith followed the sound into the kitchen, were Momo was staring at the powdered sugar and a weird cylindrical metal contraption sitting on the counter.

 

“Baa-chan, what are you doing?”

 

“Oh, Boy!” she grinned at Keith when she saw him, “I am glad you’re here!  You can feed cats while Lancey Lance cooks and I go get ready!”

 

“While Lance does  _ what _ ?” Keith felt like he had walked into some fever dream.

 

Lance pushed past him into the kitchen and gave Momo a peck on the cheek, “ _ Buenos dias,  _ Gramma.  You need me to sift?”

 

“Ah yes,” Momo replied, “I would offer food, but I need to put on my party dress.  Lord knows I am the only Asian woman there and need to look better than those white ruffles!”

 

“Hell yeah, represent!” Lance gave Momo a high five as she waddled away towards her bedroom.

 

“Boy!  Feed cats!” she yelled at Keith while Lance washed his hands.

 

Keith, still feeling like he was hallucinating a bit, got out the cat food and scooped the proper amount into the 4 bowls sitting out.  Halfway before he was about to fill the fifth black bowl, though, he stopped.

 

“Oh,” he said aloud.

 

“What is it?” Lance asked as he pulled a pan of lemon bars from the fridge.

 

“I didn’t realize my Gramma still had this,” he picked up the black food bowl, “It’s been years since we’ve had a use for it.”

 

“Yeah, I’ve been curious about that,” Lance said, “But every time I‘d catch Momo looking at it, she’d seem…” he shrugged, “like she was somewhere else.”

 

“She probably was,” Keith said, setting the bowl down gently, “Kuron was the first cat my baa-chan ever owned.  She and my grandfather adopted him together, shortly before my brother was born. When my grandpa died, Kuron was all she really had left of him.”

 

“What happened?”

 

Keith blinked and put away the cat food, Akairo and Ao pushing past him with loud meows. “He just―disappeared.  We put him outside one day, like we always did, and he never came back. For a while I believed what Momo said and thought he’d gone off to join Grandpa.”

 

“And now?”

 

“I think he was a black cat out after dark and some superstitious bastards took him.”

 

“Wow,” Lance’s eyebrows knitted together, “I didn’t think people still did that kind of stuff.”

 

“You’d be surprised,” Keith chuckled unkindly, “there’s an entire witch club at my college.  They tried to get me to join by saying I had the right  _ aura _ or something like that.”

 

Lance rolled his eyes, “That happens to everybody at least once.  One time a palm reader said I would find true love when I didn’t want it.”

 

“What does that mean?” Keith asked.

 

“Beats me, Mullet.” Lance shrugged, “Oh hey, could you actually help me with this?” he held out the metal contraption to Keith, “I just need you to scoop in the powdered sugar so I can sift.”

 

“Uh, sure,” Keith walked around the counter and stood beside him, “What  _ is _ that thing, anyway?”

 

“It’s called a sifter,” Lance explained as Keith took the measuring cup and scooped the powdered sugar into the top of the cylinder, “Basically it refines the sugar so that it becomes nice and smooth.  For some icings the recipe requires you to sift it for texture, but for today we’re just trying to make a nice dusting over Momo’s lemon bars.”

 

Lance took the sifter and grabbed the metal bar jutting out from the side of it and began to wheel it in circles.  The fine sugar sprinkled out of the bottom of the cylinder like fresh snow.

 

“How do you know all of that?”

 

Lance shrugged, “When you come from a big family, everyone helps out in the kitchen with something.  Plus my best friend Hunk is a chef, so he bakes when he’s stressed. And when he’s happy. And when he’s tired.  So he’s basically always in the kitchen.”

 

Keith wiped his sugar-dusted hands on his jeans, “I should have guessed by how loud you are that you come from a big family,” Keith said, “But I didn’t see the chef best friend coming.”

 

“What, my superb mac and cheese making skills didn’t clue you in?” Lance waggled his eyebrows, to which Keith just crossed his arms.

 

“Whatever you gotta say to make yourself feel better.” Keith barely suppressed a grin, “Like when you nearly melted a whole plastic spoon in the toaster oven.”

 

“I’LL MELT YOU IN THE TOASTER OVEN!”

 

“Boys!” Momo reentered the room and they split apart like lightning.  What  _ was  _ it about he and Lance that always made them get in each other’s faces? “How do I look?”

 

She was wearing the dress she’d worn the last time he and Shiro had taken her to Sunday brunch, when they’d both been introduced to Allura, his girlfriend.  She was beautiful, smart, and fiery, which Momo avidly approved. Keith liked her well enough, and was more thankful of how happy she made Shio than anything else.

 

“You look great, Baa-chan,” Keith said.

 

“Oh c’mon, Keith, don’t sell Gramma short!” Lance waved his long arms in the air, “She looks fantastic!  All the other ladies today are gonna  _ wish _ they could be you!”

 

“Oh please,” Momo blushed, “If anyone will be jealous it will be because of you two.  Such handsome boys on my arm! Patricia will have a heart attack for sure!”

 

Keith was a bit concerned of how giddy Momo sounded when talking about heart attacks, but decided not to mention it.

 

“Let’s get going, then!” Lance grinned, sifting the remaining sugar and putting to contraption in the sink, “Wouldn’t want to keep the ladies waiting!” he winked, and Keith had the sudden urge to grab a fistful of powdered sugar and blow it in his face.  By some miracle he restrained himself, but only just.

 

Momo shooed Keith away like she could read his mind, “Boy, you go start the car while Lancey Lance and I finish cleaning up.”

 

“Sure thing,” Keith grabbed his coat and shoes from the front and went out to the garage.

 

***

Lance wasn’t entirely sure how this tea party was going to go down.  In his head, he came up with two plausible scenarios: 1) he and Keith suffered through a few hours of being poked, prodded, and pinched by old ladies, or 2) he and Keith were going to sit quietly in the kitchen and be bored for a few hours.  He wasn’t sure which one was worse.

 

Strangely, though, neither of those two things happened.  Since Momo was amongst the last few women to arrive, other children and grandchildren had already been roped into helping with the party and entertaining the old women (and the one guy Lance saw for five seconds on his way to the toilet).  So after introductions and only a few awkwards waves and pinches on the cheek for Keith, they were practically pushed out the door.

 

“So,” Lance said as they climbed back into the car.

 

“So,” Keith said, not putting the keys in the ignition yet.

 

They sat in awkward silence for another few moments before Lance had an idea, “Hey, so since I’m still here and we have some time to kill, let’s go to the grocery store!”

 

“Don’t you usually do that on Thursdays, though?” Keith turned to look at him, and  _ ave Maria _ the gray light coming through the windshield mae his eyes dark and alluring.

 

“Yes,” Lance managed to keep his composure, “But seeing as we have nothing better to do…” he trailed off.

 

Keith sighed, “Good point.  Let’s go.” he stuck the key in the ignition and brought the car sputtering to life. “Ugh, I hate this car.  It never wants to work right.”

 

“Don’t talk about Jenny that way,” Lance chided, “Cars have feelings, you know.”

 

“Please,” Keith scoffed, “The only feelings this car has are coughing in your face and rebelling against every direction you try to give it.”

 

Okay, Lance had to admit that Momo’s ancient Honda took a bit of convincing to go anywhere, and that it nearly always smelled of gasoline, but he thought it’s what made the car so charming.

 

“She’s got character, so what?  At least the radio still works.” Lance reached over and turned on the car’s stereo, flipping through channels until he found one with music he liked.

 

“I guess a working radio has never been an important quality for me,” Keith switched the wipers on as it began to rain, “I use Apple music for my workout mixes, and nothing’s better than hearing my bike purr when I drive.”

 

Lance thought the motorcycle comment was a little weird, but was more distracted by the way Keith’s gloved fingers curled around the steering wheel and the onslaught of protests Jenny gave as they turned out onto the main road.

 

“I don’t know, man.  Driving without music?  That’s what gets me through the day,” Lance said as Bruno Mars was cut off by commercials.  He fiddled with the stations again until he came across the Latinx station. He thought for a moment about changing it, but decided to keep it there.

 

“What is this?” Keith asked, “I’ve never heard this song before.”

 

“It’s  _ Dembow _ by Danny Ocean.  My  _ Mami _ listens to this station all the time,” Lance leaned back, the seat creaking under him.  “Before my  _ abuelita _ died we never really listened to and Latinx music, trying not to be stereotypical and all that.  But when she passed, I don’t know, there was a big hole she left in the family, and it feels smaller when we listen to her music.  At least, I know that’s why my Mami listens to it all the time.”

 

Keith was quiet, staring intently out the windshield.

 

“Sorry,” Lance said after a moment, “You probably didn’t need to know all that.”

 

“No it’s fine,” Keith said quickly, “I like hearing about other people's’ families.”

 

“Oh,” Lance felt warm, “Well, what about you?  What are your parents like?”

 

Keith’s whole demeanor changed at that question, and Lance realized this was a sensitive topic for him.  He thought it a bit unfair for a second, asking about others’ families without being willing to talk about his own, but Lance remembered something his  _ mami _ had said once,

 

_ “Familia is a tricky topic for many people, mijo.  Even if they ask about yours, don’t push them into talking about theirs.” _

 

Looking at Keith, Lance decided to drop the subject.

 

“I’ve got loads of family stories if you ever wanna hear them, like the first time my sister Veronica painted her nails black.  My  _ Mami _ nearly had a fit, screaming how it could be taken in all these ways and,” Lance made his voice higher to imitate his mother, “ _ ‘Is that how you represent this family?’  _ and all that jazz.”

 

Keith relaxed some, but not much as they pulled into the parking lot, “What’d your sister do then?”

 

“Well, after catching her in the bathroom angrily staring at the nail polish remover, I had her paint my nails the bright pink color our mom loved and showed them off.  When she saw them she looked like she was going to explode:  _ ‘Mijo!  What are you doing with that on your nails?’  _

 

“To which I stared at my mother, looked her right in the eyes, and asked as innocently as possible  _ ‘But Mami, I thought you liked this color!  Veronica told me it’s the best color to wear, so why can’t I?’ _ ”

 

Keith snickered and relaxed even more as he pulled into a spot, “I’m sure she saw right through you.”

 

“I will have you know that I’m an  _ excellent _ actor,” Lance said indignantly, “But yeah, she was not happy with me or Veronica.  Eventually, though, we wore her down and we could wear any color nail polish we wanted.”

 

Keith put the car in park and shut off the engine, sighing at the cold rain that was beginning to be more like sleet and snow than rain. “You ready?”

 

Lance flipped up his coat hood and grinned, “Born ready.”

 

The two of them ran through the wind and cold, yelling and screeching as they avoided getting hit by cars and shopping carts.  Once inside, Lance recognized a few of the employees and waved, enjoying the look of terror on their faces at him being there two days early.

 

“So,” Keith said, “What do we need to get for my gramma?”

 

Lance shrugged, “We never really have a list of things to get, so it’s usually the basic and then whatever she’s craving that week.” he grabbed a cart and pushed it around.

 

“Okay, what are we getting today, then?”

 

“We’ll just have to find out and see what’s on sale!” Lance grinned as they passed the produce section. “Oh, bananas, yes!  We should probably grab some lettuce and spinach, too. Momo’s been talking about wanting to have more salads before meals, though I think it’s more because of her yoga teacher or something like that.”

 

“Gramma’s  _ who _ ?” Keith stopped.  Lance would never admit it, but the way Keith’s bottom lip stuck out when he was confused was distracting in many ways.

 

“Yeah, the girl Momo always calls Thursday mornings after she finishes teaching her yoga class.  Allure or something like that?”

 

“Oh,” Lance could almost see the light bulb go off in Keith’s head, “You mean Allura.  She teaches a yoga class early on Thursdays at the studio across town.”

 

Lance arched his brow at Keith, grabbing a bag of spring mix from the shelf, “How do  _ you _ know her?”

 

Keith rolled his eyes, “She’s my brother’s girlfriend.”

 

Lance wasn’t sure why relief suddenly flowed through his system at hearing that, but he brushed it away. “Well, in any case I think she’s having a positive influence on Momo’s eating habits.”

 

“Yeah, Shiro and Allura are pretty intense about physical and mental health.” Keith grabbed a bag of spinach and threw it into the cart.  Lance was about to ask why when he realized Keith was probably shopping for himself, too. He remembered Hunk mentioning some new recipe that involved asparagus and grabbed some for the cart.

 

As they walked around, Keith grabbed a bright red bell pepper, and Lance snatched two bunches of almost-ripe bananas.  Keith then got two bags of clementine oranges, while Lance dumped 4 containers of blueberries into the cart.

 

The two of them continued on like that throughout the entire store, constantly trying to one-up the other.  Keith would grab something, Lance would pick the organic one. Lance picked up a carton of chocolate milk, Keith grabbed a whole milk with “extra nutrients”.  By the time they got to the checkout line their cart was overflowing with so much food Lance wasn’t even sure what half of it was. He felt bad for the poor cashier whose line they picked, but didn’t regret knowing he’d won―whatever it was he and Keith were competing for.  Bragging rights? Being healthier? He didn’t know, and honestly, against Keith, he didn’t care. So long as he won.

 

The cashier, a tall, purple-haired teen, didn’t even blink as she began to scan in all of the items, though if he and Keith hadn’t been bagging Lance thought she might be more concerned.

 

“Your total today is going to be $354.69.  Is that gonna be cash or credit?” she asked, almost bored-sounding.

 

Lacne looked at the cart, then the amount, then his wallet.  He had exactly six dollars in ones, two pennies, a dime, and his debit card.  He’d forgotten to get Momo’s card from her before they left.

 

He looked over at Keith, who seemed to be having the same problem. “I’m guessing you don’t give student discounts?” he asked.

 

The cashier just stared at him as a line started to form behind the two boys.

 

“It’s okay, I got this,” Keith said, pulling out a small red card, “You can pay me in coffee for the next three years.”

 

Lance squawked. “Not on your life, pretty boy!” he whipped out his debit card, “If anybody is going to be owing coffee, it’ll be you!”

 

“Oh please,” Keith said, “You go to Starbucks at  _ least  _  twice a day; I’ve seen the cups in the trash!”

 

“Oh my god,” a voice from behind them cut in, “Would one of you please swipe and then  _ get a room? _  We’ve all got stuff to do before the snowstorm hits and don’t have time for your lovers quarrel!”

 

Lance felt his ears burn and saw Keith’s cheeks pink at that.  Quicker than he could react Keith swiped his card and signed with a flick of his wrist.

 

“Sorry to disturb your day,” Keith mumbled as he grabbed the cart filled with groceries and left.

 

Lance turned and stuck his tongue out at the old woman, got his receipt, and left.

 

The woman scoffed, “The rest of the world disappears when you’re in love.”

 

Lance felt his heart stutter in his chest but ignored it.  Old people think crazy things. He ran out after Keith and caught up with him in time to help load up the car.  It was starting to snow a little more, the flurries thick and dense.

 

“Did you know it was gonna snow?” Lance asked as they closed the trunk.

 

Keith shook his head, “I never check the weather before going anywhere.  All of my roommates usually tell me but I missed them all today.”

 

“All?  How many roommates do you have?”

 

Keith thought for a moment, “Five?”

 

“Dude,” Lance was surprised, “Do you live in an apartment off campus or something?”

 

Keith shook his head as they climbed into Jenny, “No, the building I’m in has suites where up to 10 guys can live.  We have two rooms of three with a joint bathroom and a small common area. Only one door, though, which can be awkward sometimes.”

 

Lance whistled, “Ooh I bet, especially if you try to bring anybody home.”

 

Keith grinned as he started the car, “You don’t even know the half of it.  Once one of my roommates, Josh, tried to have a romantic indoor picnic with his serious girlfriend Kimberly, but he forgot that Steven and I always come back to the room to drop off our books before practice, and we walked in on them right as he took the knee.”

 

“No!” Lance gasped, “You interrupted a  _ marriage proposal _ ?!”

 

Keith nodded, his hair flopping as he did, “It was the most awkward thing in my life, and I am a socially inept person.  Thankfully Steven is a much better improviser than I am, so he burst out in song and I joined him. Kimberly laughed a lot and eventually said yes, so it all ended well, but Josh still hasn’t forgiven us.”

 

Lance laughed and buckled his seatbelt as they pulled out of the grocery store parking lot, “Man, I can only imagine how awful that would’ve felt.”

 

“Yeah, and the crazy part is they’d never been caught or disturbed before that, when, albeit it would’ve been awkward to walk in on them making out, but not like it was at that point.”

 

Lance shook his head as they came to a stoplight, “Just think about it, though: you’re getting ready to ask one of the most important questions in your life, take a huge,  _ muy grande _ step with the love of your life when your bros walk in and just gut the moment.” he was giggling just thinking about how awful it would be and how mortified he’d feel on either side.

 

“You’re a tad sadistic, you know that?” Keith said as the light turned green.

 

At that moment, several things happened at once:

 

  1. Keith pressed on the accelerator and turned to look at Lance with a bemused face.
  2. Lance turned to look at Keith and saw a pickup truck come careening through the red light right at their line of motion.
  3. Without thinking Lance vaulted over and jerked the emergency brake, stopping Jenny a second before the pickup would’ve crashed into them.



 

Keith and Lance both surged forward, and Lance had never been so thankful for seatbelts than he was at that moment.

 

Lance turned to face Keith, his heart racing and insides trembling.  Keith was gasping, breaths jagged and uneven. His gloved fingers were tight on the steering wheel as they shook, and his eyes were blown wide.  They stared at nothing, yet Lance knew he was seeing, recalling, remembering something incomprehensible and unimaginable.

 

“Whoa, buddy,” Lance began to reach out, then remembered what Hunk had told him a few years ago,

 

_ “When someone has a panic attack, sometimes touching them can make it worse.  Never grab someone or touch them unless they’ve told you that it’s okay to when they’re in that state.” _

 

Lance was careful to keep his voice level and calm, even as he couldn’t stop shaking. “Keith,” he said a lot more firmly than he thought he could, “It’s okay.  We’re safe.”

 

The distance in Keith’s eyes shrank, and he seemed to come back to himself a bit.  He took a breath and pulled over to the side of the road, putting the car in park and the flashers on.

 

“Keith,” Lance’s voice was quiet, “You okay?”

 

He was so obviously  _ not  _ okay that he immediately regretted asking. “I’m fine.” his fingers didn’t stop shaking, even as he closed his eyes and took deep breaths. “Just a little startled, is all.”

 

Lance waited for a moment, watching Keith as he collected himself.  It was strange, Lance thought, seeing someone you knew sort-of well lost their composure and put themselves back together.  It was seeing all the sides of a person at once, and how it fit together to make the face that they always wore. Lance found himself inexplicably drawn to this Keith, bare bones and raw emotion.  There was a tragedy in his eyes, one that you couldn’t look away from.

 

“Do you want me to drive back to Momo’s house from here?” he finally asked, “Not because I don’t trust your driving, you just seem a little...shaken.”

 

Keith opened his eyes, “I’m okay.  I can get back to Gramma’s.”

 

Lance nodded slowly, “Okay.  we should get to it, then,” he gestured outside the car, “the snow’s starting to really pick up.”

 

Keith nodded and put the car in drive, turning back onto the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, season six, huh?


	4. March (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a snowstorm, so y'all know what that means.
> 
>  
> 
> there's only one bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are so many things to say about this chapter it's ridiculous. So I'll arrange them in bullet points for sake of ease.
> 
> *Thank you SO MUCH to everyone who has continued commenting and supporting this work while I've been on hiatus; my personal life has been hell the past 3 months, but you all have made it a little better. So thank you very much, I love you all <3
> 
> *If you look back to when I started this fanfic, it was before SDCC 2018, therefore I did not know about Shiro and Adam. I have had the whole plot line of this story set up for over 5 months, so for the sake of this story I do not have plans to change the relationship I set up between Shiro and Allura in this work. I apologize if this makes anyone uncomfortable, and plan in the future to incorporate Adam exclusively in regards to Shiro's romantic partner. I have headcanonned Shiro as bisexual for a long time, as (spoilers!) he is in this work. Thank you for your understanding in keeping continuity with the story I had planned.
> 
> *With this chapter, Keith's PTSD and trauma is discussed in more detail. There is no description or graphic imagery, but I wanted to make sure and alert you to that if it bothers you.
> 
> *Thank you so much, and hope you enjoy!

Keith and Lance drove back to Momo’s house and unloaded the groceries, Keith trying to keep his focus on each immediate task.  Milk? Fridge. Blueberries? Lance’s pile. 3 boxes of protein bars? His pile.

 

Soon enough he and Lance had everything organized into three separate piles, and he almost couldn’t believe how big two of them were.

 

“Aw man,” Lance whined, staring at his pile, “Hunk’s either gonna kill me or kiss me when he sees all of this.”

 

Keith looked at his own pile and knew that his roommates would have a field day with how much food he’d be bringing home. “Let’s hope for your sake it’s the latter option.”

 

Lance groaned, “Half of this stuff isn’t even in season!  I’m a traitor, Keith! I’m buying into the the corporately processed foods and their damage to the environment!”

 

“I don’t think one box of strawberries is gonna kill the world, Lance.”

 

“Oh what do  _ you _ know, Pretty Boy?”

 

“Probably more than you think, Hotshot!”

 

Lance scowled and stuck out his tongue at him, and Keith tried to ignore the way that made his stomach flop. “Real mature.”

 

Just then Lance’s phone started ringing, and he answered it, “Hey Gramma.” he eyed Keith as if to say  _ ‘who’s the mature one, now?’ _ and nodded, “Yeah.   _ Si _ .  Oh, that’s great!  Okay. Well, be sure to thank her for us.  Uh-huh.” his face suddenly scrunched up in confusion as Keith could hear Momo’s shrill yelling on the other end, “Well, yeah, Keith’s still here.  Why wouldn’t he be? Oh.” he turned around and went to one of the windows, pushing back the curtains. “Yeah. Gramma, don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.  Drive safe. Okay, bye.” he put his phone back in his pocket and turned to Keith, “One of the sons of a woman who was at the party is giving Momo a ride back here.  Says he and his mother don’t want us driving on the roads with the state they’re in.”

 

“What state?” Keith pushed past Lance to the window and opened the curtain to see only white.  The snow was falling in what looked to be diagonal sheets, heavy and thick and fast. “Oh.”

 

“Yeah,” Lance huffed, staring out the window.

 

“I think that’s the first time you’ve ever agreed with me on something.” Keith tried very hard not to notice how the pale light from outside made Lance seem even more vibrant and alive; a glimpse of sunshine and warmth in the colorless white of late winter.

 

“Don’t get used to it,” Lance said, glancing to him and out the window again, “I still haven’t forgiven you for pulling a knife on me.”

 

“Dude, that was like six weeks ago!”

 

“Actually it’ll be four weeks on Thursday.”

 

Keith’s stomach vanished, “You’ve kept track?”

 

“Hard to forget the day you’re almost murdered.” Lance said, but there was a playful edge to his voice Keith couldn’t resist.

 

“And I thought it was because of my charm.” he put a hand on his hip and turned away from the window.

 

“Ha!” Lance let the curtain fall closed again, momentarily blinding Keith with the sudden lack of light, “If anyone has charm here, it’s me,  _ flaco _ .  You’re like a ― a ―” he muttered a few incoherent words in Spanish and then snapped his fingers, “A bull in a China shop!  Yes―no!” he grit his teeth and then pointed at Keith, “I can’t remember it right now, but I will! And when I do I’ll tell you what you are, right to your face!”

 

Keith raised an eyebrow, “Sure you will.” he turned from Lance and looked back at their groceries in the kitchen with a sigh, “I should probably put what will spoil in the fridge.  I can’t drive all that home on my bike, and I’m not going anywhere in that,” he gestured outside.

 

“I should check the bus schedule and see if they’re still running.  I have to get back on campus for class tomorrow.”

 

“Like hell you are,” Keith said, “For one thing, there’s no way you could carry all of that to and from your bus; second, I don’t trust any of the bus drivers in the county to drive on the roads right now.  You can barely see two feet in front of you!”

 

“Aww,” Lance wiped a fake tear from his eye, “you  _ do _ care!”

 

Keith rolled his eyes and turned away so Lance couldn’t see what he was sure an obvious blush, “Just put your cold crap in the fridge.” he walked back to his pile of groceries and began putting all of the cold items wherever he could fit them, Lance coming behind him and doing the same.

 

When they’d finished there was an insistent rapping at the door, and all four of the cats began meowing from all corners of the house and ran to the front.  Keith immediately ran to the door and opened it to reveal a snow-covered and shivering Momo.

 

“Boy!” she yelled, then prattled on in fast Japanese, “ _ You didn’t take your death wish out in this, good!  Is Lancey Lance still here, too? _ ” she bustled inside, throwing her snow-covered coat at him and shook off her shoes.

 

Keith grunted under the heavy weight of the fabric, “Yeah, he’s still here.” he hung the coat on the rack behind the door.

 

“Hi, Gramma!” Lance called from the kitchen, “Did you enjoy your tea party?”

 

“Yes I did, Lance!  Those lily white ladies may not have any fashion sense, but they know how to cook, and have the most humiliating stories.” she waddled into the kitchen, all four of her cats meowing and rubbing against her legs as she did.

 

“Baa-chan, can I make you some hot tea?” Keith asked, “It’s pretty chilly out there.”

 

“That would be lovely, Boy.  Thank you!” she sunk into tone of the chairs at the table and picked up Ki, the yellow-collared cat, and set him on her lap.  Of all her cats, Ki was by far the biggest and cuddliest, but Keith thought him the sweetest, with his fluffy brown fur and poofy tail. “You make a whole pot since we’re stuck here tonight.”

 

Keith nodded and got out the large red teakettle Shiro normally used when they both came over and had tea.  He scooted around Lance, who went to sit with Momo and pet the cats. Ao, the blue-collared cat, immediately jumped into his lap like she always did, and he nuzzled her gently.  It was such a tender gesture Keith found himself smiling at them.

 

“Baa-chan, how many scoops should I put in today?” Keith asked.

 

“3 tablespoons should be enough,” she replied, “As long as you don’t put in too much water and make it weak!”

 

Keith scoffed, “C’mon, when have I ever made the tea weak?”

 

“Would you like the list in chronological or alphabetical order?”

 

Lance snorted, “Ouch! Burned by your own Gramma!  That’s gotta hurt.”

 

Keith fought the urge to storm around the counter and throw the tea leaves in his face, but just barely.  Instead he scooped the loose leaves into the pot, poured in water, and put it on the stovetop to boil.

 

“So who all was at the party today?” Lance asked.

 

“Oh, everyone from the neighborhood came.” Momo replied, “Except Brenda.  But she’s a lil’ bitch.”

 

“Baa-chan!” Keith scolded as Lance cackled.

 

“What?  It’s true!  She never leaves her house, and is always rude when I come over with food for her!”

 

“Oh, is she that lady who hissed at me when I said good morning last week?” Lance asked.

 

“Uh-huh,” Momo nodded.

 

“You’re right, then.  She is a  _ bruja _ .”

 

“Lance!  No swearing in front of my gramma!”

 

“She said it first!”

 

“Oh no pointing fingers here!” Momo yelled, “You tell me all the time about your hole-ass of a teacher!”

 

Lance buried his face in his hands, “Gramma, it’s asshole, and I don’t talk about him  _ all _ the time.”

 

“When you stress about homework you do!” Momo argued, “Always  _ Iverson this, Iverson that, I could kill that  _ pendejo  _ sometimes! _ ” she looked at Lance, and then at Keith as if to prove her point.

 

“Wait, you have a professor named Iverson?” Keith asked.

 

“Yeah,” Lance looked at him and raised an eyebrow, “Why?”

 

“My school has an adjunct professor named Iverson, too.” Keith replied, “He teaches Bio.”

 

Lance laughed, “My Iverson is a Chem adjunct.  You can tell he hates it, though.”

 

“Oh totally,” Keith leaned against the counter, “I’m pretty sure he comes up with pop quizzes just so he can watch us all suffer.”

 

“ _ Siiiiii! _ ” Lance agreed, “And it’s like  _ ‘Oh, you have midterms in a week? 3 tests in 3 days on material we just started going through!  That should prepare you!’  _ Like,  _ ave maria _ , can we get a break, please?”

 

“He does the same thing to us,” Keith said, “We’ll be trudging right along and then in the homework or quiz he’ll throw in a term or equation we haven’t studied yet and we’re all scrambling to figure it out.”

 

“Oh, the group chats of his class are the most frustrating things ever!” Lance groaned and turned to Momo, “There’s like, 15 of us in this one chat, right?  And someone’ll take a photo of the homework page with a sentence underlined and a bunch of question marks. Soon enough everyone is freaking out because they’re trying to figure out where the answer is in the textbook.  It’s so frustrating, but also encouraging, because we’ve all got each others’ backs.”

 

Momo continued petting Ki thoughtfully, “That is nice you all stick together.  Helps when things go wrong.”

 

The kettle began to whistle behind Keith and he whirled around to turn off the heat.  He grabbed teacups from the cabinet and poured three glasses for Momo, Lance, and himself.

 

He passed the cups out, “Careful, it’s hot.”

 

“I am, aren’t I?” Lance said, then at Keith’s face feigned surprise, “Ohh, you meant the tea, not me.  I see, I see.” he gave the lopsided grin Keith was beginning to hate more than anything else about him.  It always made Keith want to hit something, or more accurately, bang something against a wall. Probably his head.  Or Lance’s. But the thought of pushing Lance against a wall made his insides hotter than his tea, so he switched from  _ that _ train of thought real quick.

 

“Gramma, do you need any sugar?” Lance asked as Keith sat with his tea.

 

Keith just barely stifled a laugh at that.

 

“Why you ask such an absurd question?” Momo said, sipping her tea, “True Japanese tea needs no sugar or sweetener, artificial or no.”

 

“But this is just tea from the grocery store.” Lance said, taking a sip of his and grimacing, “Ugh, it’s so bitter.”

 

“I will admit, this tea does taste more like leaf water than others, but it’s a bit of home.”

 

“Baa-chan, that’s all tea is.” Keith replied, also sipping his.  Dammit, he’d made it weak again.

 

Lance stared at him like he’d grown a third eye, mouth agape and eyes wide.

 

“What?” he said defensively.

 

“I knew you were like Zuko, just not  _ that _ much.”

 

“Zuko?” Momo said, “That angry scarred boy from Avatar?”

 

“ _ You’ve watched Avatar?!”  _ Lance nearly shrieked.

 

She looked nonplussed, “Who hasn’t?”

 

“Why didn’t you say that before?”

 

“It didn’t come up before.”

 

Lance looked like a circuit had just shorted in his brain.  He shook his head and took another sip of his tea, staring at Momo.  “Have you seen Legend of Korra, too?”

 

“What a stupid question,” Momo replied, “I watched it weekly with Cheeto as it aired.”

 

“Oh my god,” Lance looked like Christmas had come again, “Wasn’t Lin, like, a total badass?”

 

And that’s how they got talking about Korra, Aang, and all the other Avatar stuff, which lasted for nearly two more hours, or at least long enough for Keith to make two more full pots of tea and dinner.  Turns out Lance was very opinionated in which villain was the worst and why, and Momo saw characters’ motivations and actions differently than either of them. One thing was certain, though, and that was the three of them all loved Zuko.  Maybe in their own ways and for different reasons, but, they loved him for one reason or another.

 

“He’s just hot, there’s no two ways around it,” Lance said when he spoke about the character, “I mean―I thought that when he had the fugly ponytail in book one, so when his hair grew out in book two?  God,” he put his hand to his chest, “I died every time he came on screen.”

 

“He is very good-looking,” Momo said, eyeing Keith, “Though a touch angry at times.”

 

“I think that’s part of what made him so attractive,” Lance swooned.

 

“He was kinda angry a lot,” Keith finally spoke up, “But I think that was just such a big part of his character.  And learning to let go of that anger and move on to a better place? I think that’s why I like him so much.”

 

Momo’s eyes were knowing and sad. “It is much better when we can move past our anger and shame to become the best version of ourselves.”

 

The two boys hummed in agreement and then fell silent for a moment.

 

“Well!” Momo said suddenly, “Enough talk!  It is close to bedtime, yes?”

 

Keith looked at the clock and saw that it was nearly 9:30. “Yeah; wow.” he shook his head, “I didn’t realize it was that late.”

 

“Time sure does fly when you’re talking about Avatar,” Lance grinned, standing up to clear his plate and glass, “Especially if you can get into the hidden symbolism of everything.”

 

Keith groaned, “No, I’ve already been through all of this with Shiro!  Some things you don’t have to read into, they’re just a thing!” he picked up his plate and stormed to the sink.

 

“Oh come on, Keith!” Lance followed him to the sink, sticking his dishes under the faucet, “Everybody thought we were reading too much into Korrasami, and  _ look what happened? _ ”

 

“Okay, Korrasami was obvious from the beginning.” Keith turned on the water and rinsed his dishes, “Or at least it was obvious Korra wasn’t straight.”

 

“And how, oh knowing one, did you see that?” Lance nudged him with his hip, sending Keith off balance for a moment and laughing.

 

Keith hip-checked him right back, “It was just a gut-feeling.  Like, nothing concrete except this intense... _ thing _ about her character, you know?  And like, how desperate she was to have Mako like her because she couldn’t deal with how Asami made her feel so she chalked it up as jealousy and like a rivalry at first?  I just knew.”

 

Lance was looking at him with a strange expression that made Keith’s stomach do all sorts of weird things.  He realized how close they were standing at the tiny sink and was hyper-aware of the miniscule space between their shoulders and arms.

 

“What?”

 

Lance shook his head and took a step back, “Nothing; I hadn’t thought of it like that before, I guess.” he opened one of the drawers and pulled out a towel, “You wash, I’ll dry?”

 

Keith nodded and turned back to Momo, “Baa-chan, you can go on and head to bed if you want; I think Lance and I can handle the cleanup.”

 

“Okay,” Momo said, standing slowly, “I make sure the guest bed has clean sheets for you two.”

 

The two boys stopped right in the middle of what they were doing.

 

“Bed,” Lance found his voice first, “As in singular?  One bed?”

 

“Mmmhm,” Momo nodded, stretching, “I only have one extra room down the hall, it where your parents used to stay when they visited.”

 

Keith then remembered as a child always having to sleep on the floor or couch when he stayed the night, depending on whether Shiro or his father took the spare room.

 

“Baa-chan, I can take the couch tonight.” Keith couldn’t make himself look at Lance.

 

“You’ll do no such thing!” Momo argued, “When you little and smaller, yes, but now?  That piece of junk not fit, you too big and spill over!”

 

“It’ll be fine,” Keith went back to washing the dishes, “It’s not like I haven’t slept in weirder places.”

 

“I mean,” Lance’s voice was wobbly, “I don’t mind if you wanna share it.”

 

Keith’s head whipped around to Lance so fast, “What?”

 

The taller boy wouldn’t meet his eyes, the back of his neck suspiciously flushed, “I used to share a bed with my brother all the time.  I don’t mind having another person there.”

 

Keith wasn’t sure what to say to that.  He wasn’t sure he  _ could _ say anything to that, other than the thought of being that close to Lance made his mouth dry up and head feel light.

 

“It’s settled, then!” Momo yawned and turned around to go to her own bedroom, “Sleep well!  I see you both in the morning.”

 

“Good night, Gramma.” Lance said.

 

“Night,” Keith added.

 

The two of them finished the dish work in silence, a strange tension falling over the pair.  It wasn’t like when they argued, or even like when they were in the grocery store. It was a palpable kind, one that came from words left unsaid that desperately needed to be.  Keith wanted to ask what Lance was thinking, but couldn’t, because he wasn’t entirely sure what he was thinking.

 

“I, uh, think my Gramma has some of my granpa’s old shirts we can wear for pajamas, if you wanna get changed.” Keith finally said, remembering all the times Shiro mentioned he’d been roped into staying the night unprepared before.

 

“Oh, okay,” Lance was as stiff as Keith felt, “I think I’ll just use the bathroom first.  Gotta retain some semblance of my skincare routine.”

 

“You have a skincare routine?”

 

The tension between them lessened as Lance raised an eyebrow at Keith, “You think skin this beautiful comes naturally?  Gotta take care of it or else it gets crusty, my man, especially during finals week.”

 

Keith’s brows knitted together, but he nodded.  Now that he thought about it, he remembered one of his roommates mentioning how he and his girlfriend went and got facials together on Valentines Day, and how much he enjoyed having cleanly scrubbed skin.  He also complained about how much they poked and popped his acne, but he still said it was worth it in the end. Plus, he won a bunch of boyfriend points with his lady, which made both of them happy.

 

“I’ll be out in a few minutes,” Lance said as he went into the bathroom and closed the door.

 

Keith just shrugged and continued down the hall to the spare bedroom.  He rummaged through the drawers until he found the one with his granpa’s shirts, the big and soft kind he remembered wearing as a small child when he’d forgotten his pajamas at home or spilled something on them.

 

He tugged the black turtleneck he was wearing off over his head as his phone vibrated in his back pocket.  Throwing the sweater aside he checked the message to see it was from his roommate AJ.

 

AJ:   
dude you okay? 

 

Keith:

_ Yeah, still at Momo’s...y? _

 

AJ:

Usually home by this time Tues.  didn’t see your bike. Snowstorm

 

Keith:

_ Thx for concern.  Staying here tonight. _

 

AJ:

Cool cool.

Say hi to the cats for me

 

Keith:

_ Will do _

 

“Hey Keith, do you know where Momo keeps the extra towels―” Lance suddenly appeared in the room.  Keith turned around to face him and saw Lance’s eyes widen when he saw his right shoulder.

 

Instinctively Keith reached to cover it up, but it was too late.  Lance had seen it. From the back of Keith’s right shoulder and across the front of his chest was a large and jagged scar, angry and puffed against his skin.  He also had a smaller scar on the right side of his abdomen, but he knew Lance was staring at the larger one. His eyes gave away everything he was thinking.

 

“Keith,” Lance’s voice was barely a whisper.

 

“I think she keeps them in the closet right outside,” he turned away and shoved a t-shirt on over his head, “You can use any color you want, it doesn’t matter.”

 

Keith didn’t turn back around until he felt Lance leave.  He wanted to punch something, or crawl into a hole and hide, or both.  Ever since he’d gotten it, Keith had always been self-conscious of his scar and how people reacted to it.  He knew it screamed violence and pain, and that anyone with a heart could tell the memory of the event behind it was even more painful than it looked.

 

And then he would think of his brother and instantly feel guilt and shame at his feelings.  Shiro had it ten times worse than he had, and no amount of scars could express the daily struggle Shiro went through.

 

Once he’d shucked off his pants and thrown them in the corner with his shirt, he went back out to the kitchen to find a phone charger.  He remembered Allura saying that she’d put one in the crap drawer to leave at the house “just because”. She was practical that way, and he could see why his brother liked her so much.

 

When he got back to the room, Lance was already there, sitting on the edge of the bed with his phone pressed to his ear.

 

“Hunk I swear I’m alive.  I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier, but I’m fine!” Lance looked up at Keith and rolled his eyes, “I’m crashing at Momo’s house for the night until the buses start running again in the morning. ...Yes I’ll keep you updated. ...Okay. ...Love you too!  Say hi to Shay for me at your tutoring session bye!” and he quickly hung up, mischievous grin on his face.

 

“Roommate?” Keith asked and walked around to the other side of the bed, plugging in his phone.

 

“Yup,” Lance popped the  _ p _ and flopped on the bed with a groan, sprawling his long self all over the covers, “He’s my mom away from home, I swear.”

 

“Sounds like it,” Keith stared at the boy on the queen sized bed, wondering how this was going to work, “Though I’m sure it can be nice at times.”

 

Lance made a noncommittal grunt.

 

“He’s the chef guy, right?  The one who’s either going to kiss or kill you later when he sees your grocery purchases?”

 

“Don’t remind me,” he groaned and rolled over on his side, freeing up space for Keith, “I’ve still gotta figure out how I’m going to get all of that from here to my dorm on the bus.”

 

Keith pulled back the covers and climbed into the bed, “Does Hunk have a car?”

 

Lance shimmied himself under the covers, too. “Yeah, his moms let him take their old car out here since they knew he and I would be rooming together.  They wanted to make sure we were able to get places if we needed to.”

 

“Maybe he could come and pick you up, then?  The buses might not be running in the morning, depending on when they clear the roads.”

 

Lance hummed, “I wonder if I could convince Momo to let you drive me in her car.”

 

“Maybe.” Keith laid down and stared up at the ceiling.  He thought about earlier that afternoon when he nearly had a full mental breakdown in the car and was surprised Lance wanted to be anywhere near him in a car after that.

 

He felt more than saw Lance yawn. “Dude,” he said, shifting and adjusting under the covers, “You’re so warm, it’s like having a heated blanket.”

 

Keith rolled over so his back was facing Lance and tried to put as much distance between them as he could, “Sorry.”

 

“No, don’t be!” Lance murmured, “It’s kinda nice.”

 

Keith felt himself warm even more at that, but tried to ignore it.  He was hyper-aware of every move Lance made beside him, every shift of the mattress, the reach of his toes under the covers.  Keith wanted so much to roll over and touch him, but thought better of it.

 

“You good for me to get the light?” Lance asked.

 

“Sure,” Keith responded, still unable to make himself look at Lance.

 

“Okay,” he felt Lance shift and then the light went out.

 

After a moment of laying in the darkness Keith realized that he wasn’t tired at all.  In fact, his brain seemed more wired now than it had when the light was on, and he wasn’t sure why.  There was something about being in the darkness and sharing a bed with someone that was so...vulnerable was the only word he could come up with.  Every hair on his skin was reaching out, and he felt Lance’s heat index like some sixth sense. He felt Lance twitch his toes and heard his breaths: deep breath in, slow breath out, pause.  Deep breath in, slow breath out, pause.

 

There was something in those pauses that held Keith on edge.  They were full of thoughts and words and heartbeats under cotton shirts.  It occurred to him how  _ loud _ Lance was, even when he wasn’t talking.  His thoughts were loud, always whirring and shifting and changing.  Keith had caught glimpses of this in quiet moments with Momo over the past few weeks, he realized, but never had it been as tangible as it was now.

 

Another thing that being in the dark with someone could do was give you unnatural courage.

 

“Keith?  Are you still awake?”

 

He thought about not responding and letting Lance drift off to sleep, but found he didn’t want to.

 

“No, I’m asleep.”

 

“Can I ask you something?”

 

There was a hesitance to Lance’s voice that stayed Keith’s sarcastic response. “Yeah?”

 

“When we were in the car, earlier.  What―what happened? You kinda disappeared for a second and I thought―” his voice broke off, and Keith’s heart lurched into his throat. “I didn’t know if you were going to come back.”

 

Keith tried to swallow around his heart and found it more difficult than he thought.  The frustration and shame from before flared in his chest, and he tried to think of how to phrase it.

 

He must have tensed up, because Lance quickly began backpedalling, like he had when Keith’s family had been brought up. “Y’know what, nevermind, it’s fine―”

 

“No,” Keith interrupted, “No, you―you deserve to know.  I’m just,” Keith worked his jaw and scoffed, “I’ve had it under control for so long and I―” he took a deep breath and shifted on the bed, his back still to Lance.  Unnatural courage.

 

“I have PTSD.  That’s why I disappeared earlier.  My brother and I got hit by a guy who ran a red light a couple years ago.  It’s a miracle either of us made it out alive. And sometimes, when I drive…”

 

Lance was perfectly still, “You get panic attacks while driving.”

 

Keith nodded before remembering Lance couldn’t see him. “Yeah.  It’s not usually that bad, but when that truck came out of nowhere I just―” he closed his eyes and tried to push away the memory, “It comes back.”

 

There was a pause. “Is that how you got your scar?”

 

Keith felt his face warm with embarrassment and shame, “Yeah.”

 

The other boy exhaled in a low whistle, “Wow.  that must’ve been one hell of a wreck to leave a mark like that.”

 

Keith’s breath caught in his chest, “Yeah.”

 

“Whoa,” Lance’s voice instantly became worried, “You okay?  I’m sorry if I said something―”

 

“No,” Keith tried to clear his head, “It’s fine.”

 

Lance shifted behind him and suddenly a hand was on his shoulder.  A small tug. “Hey man, look at me.”

 

His shoulder burned from Lance’s touch, and he melted, rolling over to face him.  The bed was either a lot smaller than he remembered, or Lance had moved much closer than he realized.  His blue eyes were the brightest thing in the room.

 

“You don’t have to pretend you’re okay.  We’re all struggling in our own ways.” Lance’s voice was deep and calming, “And you don’t have to talk about things if you don’t want to.”

 

Keith’s mouth was dry, “No, Lance, honestly it’s fine.  I wanted you to know.”

 

There was another pause, and Keith was surprised his heart didn’t leap from his throat out onto the sheets.  He knew the moment he’d said it that it was true, but, by God, did he actually  _ say that _ ?  Out  _ loud?? _

 

Lance’s face was complicated, “Oh.  Well,” he shifted, “I’m glad you told me, then.” he smiled, mouth closed and eyebrows soft, and Keith felt it in his toes.

 

_ Oh no, this was a mistake. _

 

“Yeah, well, you’re easy to talk to.” Seriously, what was  _ wrong  _ with his processor right now?  It was like all his inhibitors had been stripped off, thrown away, and trampled underfoot in the snow outside.

 

Lance also seemed surprised at Keith’s sudden outburst of honesty, “You’re not so bad yourself, even if you’re a sulky loner most of the time.”

 

“It’s  _ called  _ being introverted.  You should try it sometime, Mr. Goofball.” Keith smirked.

 

Lance looked scandalized, “I’m not a goofball!”

 

“Tell that to Momo.”

 

Lance lifted himself up on one elbow and raised an eyebrow, “Oh you wanna go there?”

 

Keith scooted back and mimicked Lance’s expression, “You know it.” and with a swift kick Keith’s toes connected with Lance’s shins.

 

Lance shrieked and kicked back, falling face-first into the pillows. “ _ Ay por dios _ , what was that for?” he laughed.

 

Lance’s foot collided with Keith’s shin, and he almost yelled, laughing, “God, your feet are  _ freezing _ , asshole!”

 

They continued on like that for a while, kicking and laughing and yelping until they were both too tired and drifted off to sleep.  It was easy for Keith to put aside the fears and worries he’d had and rest easily.

 

***

Lance woke up and immediately knew that he was in trouble.  For one thing, he really  _ really _ had to pee, which he blamed on that cup of tea he’d had right before bed.  For another, much more alarming thing, Keith was in his arms asleep.

 

Now, a lot of things went through Lance all at once.  A lot of them centered around the fact that his bladder was near bursting, but most of them were the internal panic of how to extrapolate himself from Keith before he woke up.  He tried to keep his breathing even and steady so as to not disturb Keith, and stared down at the other boy. Keith was so warm, like a cup of hot cocoa on Christmas, his cheeks slightly pink and ears to match.  His breaths came out in deep, gentle puffs through parted lips, chest moving against Lance’s in a steady rhythm, and his soft black hair was messy and tangled all over the place.

 

With a sudden constricting feeling in his chest, Lance gently laid his head back on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling.  There had been many times when his young nieces and nephews had fallen asleep on top of Lance, but this was the first time someone adult-sized had slept in his arms.  Well, he and Hunk had crashed on couched before, and as he said he used to share a bed with his brother, but this felt different somehow. Softer, yet...more. He couldn’t put words to it, and feeling Keith’s fingers wrap in the old t-shirt he’d borrowed and their legs gently intertwined, Lance found he didn’t want to get up just yet.  He wanted to stay and lay in Keith’s warmth for a while.

 

But that thought, along with the incessant strain on his bladder, made Lance realize he had to get up  _ now _ .

 

Slowly he separated himself from Keith, first by shifting to the left slowly so he slid out from under Keith, and gently tried to move his right arm from where it had wrapped around Keith’s waist.  All in all, Lance felt he was doing a pretty good job, until he swung his feet around and the floor creaked beneath him. Keith’s breath hitched, and his once peaceful eyebrows knitted together.

 

“Lance?” he murmured as his fingers tightened against the sheets, relaxed, and his eyelashes fluttered.

 

Lance could only sit and watch, stunned.  Why had Keith said his name? Did that just happen?  Who gave him the right to be that pretty first thing in the morning?

 

Thankfully Lance didn’t have to answer any of those questions as he stood and sprinted to the bathroom.

 

Once he’d finished and washed his hands Lance wondered if he should head back to bed or not.  He wasn’t sure what time it was, just that it was early. He was in that strange state of mind where he knew that he could either go back to sleep for another hour and be fine, or stay awake and go throughout the day.  He thought for a moment about what it’d be like to climb back into bed with Keith and his warmth. He liked the idea, especially as he was chilled from the cool hallway. But the more he realized he wanted to, the more he decided that was exactly what he  _ shouldn’t _ do.  He wasn’t sure what the tightness in his chest was, but Lance knew that he didn’t want to deal with it right now.

 

Lance walked out into the living room and grabbed a blanket to wrap himself up in, thinking he might be able to get some homework done when he heard a noise from the kitchen.  He went to inspect and saw that it was Momo fixing a pot of tea. Midori, the cat with the green collar, sat on the countertop beside her.

 

“Morning, Gramma,” Lance said, his voice still scratchy from sleep.

 

Momo looked from the stove when she heard him, “Oh, it you.  Good morning, Lancey Lance.” she poured the water into her mug, “I expected Boy to be up first.  His sleep habits are worse than Dori, here!” she chuckled and nuzzled the auburn cat.

 

“What do you mean?” Lance asked.

 

“Even when he was young, Boy had trouble sleeping.  Always restless, would wake up to any noise outside.”

 

“Huh,” Lance hadn’t experienced anything like that last night.  In fact, he’d slept better last night than he had since he’d been home for spring break two weeks ago.

 

Momo had a gleam in her eyes. “Did you sleep well?”

 

Lance swore she could read his mind sometimes. “I slept just fine.  The room was a little cold, but Keith’s like a space heater, so it was warm enough.”

 

Momo nodded and took a sip of her tea. “Would you like some tea?  It’s good to have in the morning.”

 

Lance shrugged and grabbed a teacup from the cabinet, “I don’t see why not.”

 

The two of them sat together at the table, drinking tea and having idle conversation about their weeks and how the tea party was the day before.  Momo had several new juicy and gossip-worthy stories from all the ladies in the neighborhood and all the mischief their kids and grandkids were getting into.

 

“My  _ abuelita _ would always tell the craziest stories about my  _ mami _ when she was a kid,” Lance mused, “It’s funny how alike she and I were as children.  In fact, there were some stories she told I couldn’t tell the difference, that’s how alike  _ mi Mami y yo somos _ .”

 

There was a pause as Momo stared into space, deep in thought.

 

“What about your children?  Were Keith and his brother anything like either of their parents?”

 

Momo’s expression was complicated, “Yes, they were.  Cheeto carry much of their father, though not too much of their mother. I know not what their father like as a boy, but their mother―” she trailed off, “Boy is like his mother.”

 

Lance felt like he might be treading on a sensitive topic, but ever since Keith had shut down yesterday when his parents had come up, the question had been eating at Lance, “Gramma, what happened to Keith and Shiro’s parents?  Why doesn’t Keith like to talk about them?”

 

Momo sighed deeply and closed her eyes, setting her teacup on the table. “Lancey Lance, there is much history to our family, and most of it is painful.  We all carry it in different ways, and Keith in the hardest way.”

 

Lance was about to ask more when there was a groan from behind them.  Lance turned to see Keith walk into the kitchen, sleepily rubbing his eyes.

 

“What do I do the hardest way?” he asked, and Lance did  _ not  _ need this right now.  He was thankful Keith wasn’t looking at him because he could feel his cheeks burning.  Keith’s voice was rough and deep, and as he ran his fingers through his mullet it just made him look even more dishevelled.

 

“Lancey Lance and I were talking about the cats,” Momo responded, “You always clean the litter box when it most difficult.”

 

Lance thanked all of the gods he knew for Momo’s quick thinking, “Yeah, she said that you dump all of the different boxes separately?”

 

“What’s wrong with that?” Keith protested, still defensive against Lance even when half-asleep. “It’s just easier to throw each of them out one by one instead of combining the bags.”

 

“It take much more time going out, then back inside, out and in, out and in.” Momo murmured.

 

Keith narrowed his eyes at his grandma and shook his head, “I’m not going to argue with you about this, especially before I’ve had my caffeine.”

 

“Sure, mullet man.” Lance rolled his eyes.

 

“Once you both are caffeinated,” Momo interrupted before Keith could retort and start an argument, “You two should get dressed and shovel out front.  It’s covered in snow.”

 

Lance had nearly forgotten why he’d spent the night here in the first place, “Oh yeah, I haven’t seen outside yet.” he stood and moved to the living room window, pushing aside the curtains. “Wow.”

 

The world outside was white and gray and black, the ground a perfect blanket and trees stark against it.  The road hadn’t been cleared yet, and it was near impossible to tell where the earth ended and the asphalt began underneath it.

 

While he stood there staring, a bird fluttered from the trees and landed gently, making small marks in the perfection.

 

“That’s a lot of snow,” Keith said from his shoulder, and Lance started; he hadn’t heard the other boy walk up behind him.

 

“Wonder how deep it is?”

 

“The weatherman said it be 10 inches,” Momo called out, “But the weatherman always lie.”

 

Lance smirked, “True, but sometimes they make a good guess.”

 

“However deep it is, we should get out there and start shovelling if we wanna be done before you have to head back,” Keith said and walked back into the kitchen, “Baa-chan, do you still have that tub of snowgear?”

 

After about 20 minutes, Keith and Lance were ready to head outside in the cold and snow, shovels in hand.

 

“Bet I can shovel my half faster than you,” Lance said.

 

Keith’s eyebrow arched under his hat, “You’re on.”

 

Within the hour the two of them managed to shovel out Momo’s driveway so it was near perfect.  Lance had received a surprising amount of practice shovelling over the past two years in school, as his campus believed it built “good character” to shovel out your own dorm.  It was the most obnoxious thing ever. But, it meant that Lance knew what he was doing, and competing against Keith only made him move faster.

 

Once they’d finished Momo’s drive, Lance looked around the neighborhood and saw more than a few that hadn’t been cleared yet.

 

“Hey, Keith,” Lance called, “Do you know how many people on this street are Gramma’s age?”

 

Keith thought for a moment, “A lot, I think, or at least her neighbors beside and across the street.”

 

“Do they have any kids at home?”

 

“Don’t think so.  Why?”

 

Lance pulled his blue plastic shovel out of snowbank, “We should go ask if we can clear their driveways.  You know, since they probably can’t and don’t have anybody else!”

 

Keith seemed to think about that for a moment as he leaned against his shovel, staring at Lance. “That...actually sounds like a good thing to do.” he adjusted his gloves, “Let’s do it.”

 

***

It was another two hours before they got back inside at Momo’s, and Keith was  _ starving _ .  Thankfully, with all of the excessive groceries he and Lance had bought the day before, Momo was able to cook up a nice big meal for them.

 

Halfway through lunch, Lance’s phone rang, and he answered it quickly. “Hunk, buddy, what’s up?” he made an apologetic face and left the table.

 

“Who is this Hunk Buddy?” Momo asked Keith accusingly, as if he’d done something wrong.

 

“He’s Lance’s roommate at school.  Y’know, like how I live with 5 other guys in an apartment?”

 

“Oh,” Momo said, and she seemed oddly relieved.  She smiled to herself and took a drink of her tea, “That is good.”

 

“Baa-chan,” Keith looked at her, “What’re you thinking?”

 

“Nothing you want to know yet,” Momo said, “I am just glad Lancey Lance has friends.  I worry sometimes, he is homesick so much.”

 

“He is?” Keith wiped his fingers on his napkin, “I’ve never noticed.”

 

“Oh, not so much when you are here, but when you are gone?  He talk nonstop about his family and how much he miss them.”

 

Keith could just make out the timbre of Lance’s voice from the living room and remembered the drive to the store yesterday.  Lance had talked about his mom, and his face lit up like the sun emerging from behind a cloud. He suddenly wondered how many siblings Lance had, and if he was close with them.  He wanted to hear every story Lance could tell, if it meant his face would be that bright all the time.

 

_ Everyone struggles in their own ways. _

 

Momo was looking at him with a knowing look, to which Keith glared back and opened his mouth to say something when Lance re-emerged.

 

“Sorry about that, Gramma,” he said, shoving his phone into his back pocket, “That was my roommate Hunk, who’s also my best friend.  He was just making sure I’m still okay.”

 

“It is no problem,” Momo responded, “Or, as you kids say ‘ _ All Gucci!’ _ ” she grinned, and Keith had to refrain from groaning externally as well as internally.

 

“Did you talk to him about coming to pick you up?” Keith asked, “Since you can’t carry everything on the bus?”

 

Lance nodded, “He’ll be over here in about 20 minutes to pick me up so we can get back and study.  We have a few projects coming up that need extensive work.”

 

“I know the feeling,” Keith agreed, remembering the 3 tests he had looming over him.

 

“You boys and your procrastination,” Momo shook her head. “It is a miracle you get anything done sometimes.”

 

“Gramma, we’re college students, procrastination and anxiety are a given.” Lance deadpanned, taking a drink of his water.

 

“Not to mention ramen,” Keith added.

 

“That too.”

 

When they were finished with the meal and began cleaning up, the doorbell rang.

 

“That’ll be Hunk!” Lance grinned, pulling his hands out of the soapy dish water and grabbing a towel ran to the door.

 

Keith heard shouts of welcome and murmured questions as the door opened and closed again.  There were heavy footfalls, and Lance came back in with a grin on his face and an impressive-looking guy behind him.

 

“Gramma, Keith, this is Hunk.” Lance gestured to the guy behind him.

 

“Nice to meet you!” Hunk smiled, and Keith felt like he needed sunglasses.  The brightness and genuine nature of Hunk’s smile was overpowering, especially coming from a guy who looked like he could bench press the whole house and eat all of its contents easily.

 

“You as well, Hunk,” Momo inclined her head gently, “I hear you feed Lancey Lance and make sure he not get into much mischief?”

 

Hunk laughed, “I do my best, but he’s a handful, as I’m sure you’ve realized.”

 

“You can say that again,” Keith said.

 

“Hey!”

 

Hunk ignored his friend’s outburst and turned to Keith, “So you’re the mullet knife guy.” he crossed his arms and looked him up and down, “I can kinda see what Lance meant, you do give off an intimidating vibe.”

 

“Thank you!” Lance gasped, “Finally you understand!”

 

Keith felt strange under Hunk’s gaze, like he was trying to judge something about his character and whether he was a good person for Lance to be around.  Keith had always hated that look when it came from teachers or parents, but from Hunk it felt more genuine, like he had no ulterior motive than taking care of his best friend, and Keith admired that instantly.

 

“So, you’ve heard of me?” Keith asked, not daring to look at Lance.

 

Hunk snorted, “Dude, you’re all he talks about.  Keith this, Keith that, ‘oh my god look at Keith’s snapstory―’”

 

“ _ Hunk! _ ” Lance’s ears were redder than Akairo’s collar.

 

Keith felt something in his chest grow warm, and he tried to ignore how Momo raised her eyebrows at him.

 

“Well, he told me you were his mom away from home, so I think we’re even.” Keith blurted before he could think.

 

Hunk’s face went blank for a moment and he turned to Lance, “Really?”

 

Lance stood in the kitchen like a fish, red-faced and gaping.

 

Hunk launched himself onto his friend an smothered him in a hug, “That means so much to me!  You’re the best bud ever!”

 

Lance wheezed, “Love you too, buddy, just, can’t really breathe!”

 

“Oh sorry,” Hunk released him, and Keith tried not to laugh at how Lance doubled over, trying to get his breath back.

 

Momo smiled, “How much like brothers you are.”

 

Keith whipped around to look at Momo when she said that.  Was she comparing Hunk and Lance’s relationship to his and Shiro’s?  Or someone else?

 

“Yeah, well,” Lance coughed, “We should probably get going.  Those projects aren’t gonna finish themselves!”

 

“Your fridge won’t fill itself, either,” Keith muttered, grinning slightly.

 

“Wha―”

 

“JUST GRAB MY BACKPACK I’LL BE RIGHT BEHIND YOU!”

 

“Dude, what’d you get this time?”

 

“ _ No comprendo, hasta la  _ later, c’mon man!” Lance practically shoved Hunk out the front door and ran back in to grab his grocery bags from the fridge.

 

“You want some help?” Keith asked, grinning.

 

“No, thank you, I think you’ve helped enough!” he said as he grabbed the four bags of blueberries and juice he’d purchased.  He grabbed the last three bags from the pantry and left with a nod, “Gramma, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, “and Keith, I hope your motorcycle freezes over out in the cold.  Bye!”

 

The front door opened and slammed again, Keith’s chest brimming with the desire to chase after him and yell back.  But Momo was staring, so he didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have looked canon in the eye and walked backwards straight (or, in this case, gay) into hell.


	5. April (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> boys making plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuses for the lateness of this, or for how short it is.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has continued supporting me and encouraging me; you've all been doing that SO WELL. Like, you all are too kind and good to me seriously. Keep being you, lovelies!

Momo’s house was quiet.

 

Lance had just left for the day with a smile and wink, promises to come back in two days fresh on his lips.  And then the house was quiet. It was a quiet Keith wasn’t uncomfortable with, but there was a vacancy to it he was beginning to notice in many areas on his life, specifically in the times and places he wasn’t with Lance.  The two of them had started texting each other on the days Lance wasn’t at Momo’s, and the occasional snapchat when the situation warranted it. And Keith found whenever he wasn’t with Lance, or talking to Lance, that his world was full of this vacant quiet.  He chased away this vacancy with every text and Tuesday, snapchat and smirk. He prodded at the silence the same as Lance’s ego, with a gleam in his eye and a fluttering in his chest as they argued.

 

The lanky boy added more noise to Keith’s life with a single text than any lacrosse match or practice, and he wasn’t sure what to do with that knowledge.  Part of him wanted to ask Shiro about it, because he’d never felt this much of something before, but the larger and more dominant part of him ignored that, reasoning that Lance was just so  _ much _ that he must affect everyone that way.  Right? Yes, that was probably it. Plus, he felt like Shiro might try to make it a bigger deal than it needed to be.  Who cares if Lance’s blue eyes were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen? Or that his texts always found a way to make him smile?  Or that seeing him take care of Momo’s cats and Momo herself made something inside him feel warm? Or―

 

Keith’s thoughts were cut short by a knock at the door.

 

“Boy, will you go see who that is?  This infomercial on snuggies is whiter than Wonder Bread and straighter than a pencil, and they all look so hideous.”

 

Keith rolled his eyes at Momo and got up from the couch to the door.  He opened it and was surprised to see two old women standing on the front porch.  They looked vaguely familiar, but Keith couldn’t place where he knew them from.

 

“Good afternoon!” the woman on the left said.  She wore a hairpiece in her long hair that looked like a flamingo. “This is Momo Kogane’s residence, yes?”

 

“Uh, yeah it is,” Keith stuttered.

 

“Boy!” Momo yelled from the living room, “Who is it?”

 

“Uhh,” Keith turned to the two women, “Who’s asking?”

 

The woman on the right raised a dark eyebrow at him, “I’m Vivian, and this is Alice.  We live down the street.”

 

Keith yelled back to Momo, “It’s Vivian and Alice from down the street!”

 

There was the sound of Momo’s recliner closing, and she appeared in the hallway, “Stop being rude!  Let them in!”

 

Keith awkwardly held the door open and muttered, “Please, come in.”

 

The shorter one, Alice, smiled, “You’re a sweet boy, thank you.”

 

Vivian gave him the once-over as she stepped over the threshold.  Keith wasn’t sure why, but something about the way she stood made Keith want to crawl into a hole.

 

Momo waddled her way down to the ladies as they took off their shoes and the cats began meowing.

 

“Momo!” Alice exclaimed, “It’s so good to see you again!  It’s been a while!”

 

“Alice,” Momo nodded, “It been three weeks since the tea party.  Not that long.”

 

“Oh I know,” Alice laughed like she’d made a funny joke, “But still, we’re neighbors; I hate that we don’t see each other that often.”

 

“Indeed,” Momo’s smile was thin, “Please, come into the kitchen.  Would you like tea?”

 

“Thank you, but we can’t stay long,” Vivian said curtly, “We just wanted to deliver these.” she pulled out of her purse 3 brightly colored envelopes and handed them to Momo.

 

“What this?” Momo asked.

 

“Wedding invitations.” Vivian explained, like it should be the most obvious thing, “For you, your older grandson, and your two grandsons who shovelled out our driveway after that snowstorm last month.”  she glanced at Keith, and he tried not to shrink under her dark eyes.

 

“Well, this is an honor!” Momo said, holding up the envelopes for Keith to see, truly smiling, “Which of your children or grandchildren are getting married?”

 

Alice smiled shyly, “Actually, it’s neither.” She reached out and linked arms with Vivian, “We’re the ones getting married!”

 

Many things clicked into place in Keith’s head at once, and he had many happy things he wanted to say, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was, “You’re gay?”

 

Alice started, and Vivian turned her cold gaze back on him, “Bisexual, actually.”

 

Momo’s eyebrows were raised at him angrily, and Keith tried to make amends. “I mean―that’s awesome!” he tried for a smile, “That’s really cool you’re―that―” he coughed and found he had no idea what to say anymore, “I’m gay!”

 

The moment he said it he wanted to kick himself.  Coming out to his family and close friends was one thing, but coming out to random old ladies he’d never met before in his life?  What the hell? Being gay was not something he went around announcing everywhere. For him, it was like walking up to every person he met and saying  _ “I have black hair” _ .  He just didn’t have the strong urge to tell people.

 

Alice grinned even brighter, “I  _ knew _ I sensed a kinship with you!  Vivi, didn’t I say so when we saw him shovelling our driveway?  I said,  _ ‘Vivi, I think those two boys are in love!’ _ didn’t I?”

 

Vivian nodded, “Yes, dear, I was there.”

 

“Because I saw you and that tall lanky boy teasing each other and working so well together and I could just tell there’s something more going on there!”

 

“Wait, hold on,” Keith interrupted, “You mean Lance?”

 

“Oh Lance!” Alice said, “Is that his name?  How lovely!”

 

“We’re not―” Keith stammered, “That’s―I’m not in love with Lance!”

 

Alice’s grin faded slightly, “Really?”

 

“Your red cheeks say otherwise,” Vivian smirked.

 

Keith’s face did feel rather warm, “It’s just the heater kicking in.”

 

Vivian and Alice shared a look with Momo, and all three of them smiled like they were sharing a secret.

 

“Well, we best be off!” Alice’s smile returned, “Have a great day, Momo and Keith!  Make sure Lance gets his invitation, please!”

 

“No problem, Boy will make sure he gets it ASAP!” Momo smiled as well as the two women turned and left.

 

“Take care!”

 

Vivian stopped and gave Keith a knowing look, nodded, and left.

 

Once the door shut behind them, Keith turned to Momo, “Baa-chan, what was all that about?”

 

“What?” Momo asked, feigning innocence.

 

“That whole,” he waved his hands in the air vaguely, “Whatever you three had there.”

 

“Oh,” Momo turned and waddled her way back into the kitchen, “That was nothing you should worry about.”

 

Keith opened his mouth to say more when his phone chimed.  It was a text from Lance.

 

Lance:  
Oh my god you will not believe who is on the bus

 

Keith:

_ No idea, but I suspect you’re about to tell me _

 

Lance:  
I’m ignoring your smart-ass-ness and sarcasm for the sake of what I’m about to tell you:

There are at least 4 cosplayers that look like they came straight from  _ “The Mummy” _ , crazy eyeliner and everything

 

Keith:

_ You sure they aren’t just an emo punk band?  They do show their faces on public transit from time to time _

 

Lance:

I am hurt that you would think I don’t know the difference between punk rockers and mummy enthusiasts, mullet.  Truly hurt.

 

Keith:

_ I honestly wouldn’t know the difference.  I’ve never seen the mummy. _

 

Lance:

EXCUSE ME??!

WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’VE NEVER SEEN THE MUMMY?????!

 

Keith:

_ It just never seemed interesting to me _

 

Lance:

INTERESTING?? IT’S THE BEST MOVIE EVER MADE!!!! ADKFHDKJG HOW HAVE YOU NOT SEEN IT???????

 

Keith:

_ I didn’t realize you were so passionate about this movie XD _

 

Lance:

YOU WOULD BE TOO IF YOU SAW HOW AMAZING IT IS

ITS GOT YOUNG BRENDAN FRAISER

AND RACHEL WEISZ

AND FUNNY BRITISH ACCENTS

AND DEATH-DEFYING STUNTS

HOW ARE YOU NOT INTERESTED????

 

Keith:

_ I didn’t say I wasn’t, just that it didn’t interest me as a kid. _

 

Lance:

You poor deprived child

 

Keith:

_ Guess I’ll have to watch it sometime _

 

Lance:

DAMN RIGHT YOU DO

MY DORM  
THURSDAY NIGHT  
BRING PAJAMAS AND A SLEEPING BAG AND BE READY FOR THE BEST NIGHT OF YOUR LIFE

 

Keith:  
_If you insist… ;)_

 

Lance:  
You bet your awful mullet I do

  
  


Keith felt his cheeks warm and smiled, staring at the texts.

 

“What you smiling at?” Momo appeared at his elbow.

 

Keith jumped and clutched his phone to his chest, “Baa-chan!  Don’t scare me like that!”

 

“Meh,” Momo waved her hand nonchalantly, “My house, I do what I want.” she eyed him evilly, “Was it Lancey Lance?”

 

Keith felt his gut squirm, “Yeah, he’s yelling at me for never seeing some mummy movie, I don’t know.  You know how he gets about stuff like that.”

 

“Yes, I do,” Momo smiled gently, “He send me chatsnap from time to time, always yelling to gremlin friend or cupcake about something.”

 

Keith laughed at the nicknames Momo had given Lance’s closest friends, Pidge and Hunk.  Having met Hunk, Keith could confirm cupcake the perfect nickname, and from what he’d seen of Lance’s snapstories, gremlin suited Pidge as well.

 

“Have you met his other friend, yet?” Keith asked, “Pidge, the gremlin?”

 

“Lancey Lance had a face-off with her on his phone last week while he was studying,” Momo replied, “He introduced me.  She is short and short-tempered. I like her much.”

 

This was high praise, coming from Momo.  she didn’t give verbal approval unless she really felt that way.

 

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Keith smiled, “Lance has good taste in people.” he paused and looked down at his phone, “Well, usually.  I don’t know why he sticks around me.”

 

“He likes you.” Momo put it simply.

 

Keith couldn’t help the scoff that escaped his lips, “What?”

 

“You make him smile and laugh.  What more you need for proof?”

 

He paused at that, not quite sure what to say in response.  Were all friendships really that simple? He thought about it for a moment.

 

“I guess I hadn’t looked at it like that before.”

 

“Then how  _ did _ you look at it?”

 

“I don’t know, I guess―” he thought about his roommates and how they only knew each other because of sports.  How they hung out together sometimes after practice or on a rare weekend, but it was a different feeling than when he was with Lance.  The atmosphere was more... _ real _ was the only word he could think of.

 

“I guess it just isn’t easy for me to have real friends, that I don’t know how to get them?”

 

Momo looked at Keith and smiled, a faraway sadness in her dark eyes. “You have much of your father in you.”

 

Keith looked down at his hands, “I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.”

 

“It is good.” Momo said with such finality it made Keith look at her. “He was not perfect, but he was a good man.  He had the same heart as Shiro does; as you do. You also have much of your mother in you.”

 

“Mom?” Keith was taken aback.  It was rare for Momo to talk about his parents, much less his mother, “How―what was she like?”

 

“Tall,” Momo said immediately and laughed, “Tall and strong, much more than your father.  I still do not know how she not step on him every day!” she laughed again, “It seems you did not get that blessing.”

 

Keith rolled his eyes as he followed Momo back into the living room.  Shiro had once told him that their father was quite tall, which Keith remembered vaguely.  It was strange, the small and ultimately inconsequential things you remember about a person when they’re gone.

 

Momo settled back into her recliner with a sigh, Ki the cat meowing and hopping gently into her lap.  Akairo slowly emerged from her usual perch on top of the china cabinet and slinked over to where Keith sat on the floor with his books.  His phone chimed again, though this time the message was from Shiro.

 

“Who that?” Momo asked, nosy as always.

 

“Just Shiro,” Keith replied, “He’s making sure we’re still up for dinner tonight.”

 

“Of course!” Momo said, “Tell him come anytime now.  I start when he get here.”

 

Keith texted back, confirming with his brother.  The three of them hadn’t had dinner together in so long, he wondered how things would go.

  
  


***

“So, wait, we’re doing what tomorrow?” Pidge was sitting on the floor of Lance and Hunk’s shared dorm room, fiddling with a new invention she claimed would eventually make their lives easier.

 

“We’re watching  _ The Mummy _ because Keith hasn’t seen it yet and needs to experience the beauty that is Evie and Rick’s relationship.” Lance explained, marking an answer on his math homework.

 

“Is that the one with The Rock?”

 

“No, he was in the second one,” Hunk corrected before Lance could interject, “ _ The Mummy Returns _ .  One of the only good sequels to exist in the film world.”

 

Lance whistled, “That’s a bold claim, big guy.”

 

“Well, it’s just facts.  Generally sequels and remakes are trash.  I mean, have you  _ seen _ the trailer for the new  _ Mummy _ movie with Tom Cruise?”

 

“Good point,” Lance conceded, “But you gotta admit, Tom looks  _ fine _ for a guy his age.  Maybe scientology did him some good.”

 

Pidge groaned, “Not this again.  Just go watch  _ Top Gun _ on your computer and call it a day if we’re gonna go down that route.”

 

There was a soft knock on the door, interrupting whatever argument Lance and Pidge were about to get into.

 

“Hunk?” a feminine voice came through the door, “Are you in there?”

 

Pidge and Lance swerved from the door to look at Hunk, who had frozen, a look of panic on his face.  He then jumped up and ran to his drawers, changing from his ratty t-shirt to a sweater and running his fingers through his hair to hastily fix it.

 

Before he could even think Lance launched himself across the room and opened the door.  On the other side was none other than the archeology major Shay Balmera, the girl Hunk and Pidge shared an elective with.

 

“Hi there!” Lance grinned.

 

“Hello,” Shay seemed surprised to see him open the door, “Apologies, I was just looking for Hunk.”

 

“Oh, well, this is a good place to look for him!” Lance said quickly, “I’m Lance, Hunk’s roommate.  You must be Shay.”

 

“ _ Lance _ !” Hunk hissed from the room as he shucked on jeans, but Lance ignored him.

 

“Indeed!” she smiled, and  _ wow _ she had a cute smile, just like his little niece.  “Yes, Hunk has mentioned you before.”

 

“All good and fantastic things, I’m sure,” Lance pretended to check his nails, “I mean, he talks about you like you’re a goddess, so―” 

 

“LANCE!”

 

He didn’t get to read the flush on Shay’s cheeks before Hunk barrelled into him and practically ran him over, “Shay!”

 

Shay’s brown flush deepened when she looked at him, “Hunk!  You were present the whole time?”

 

“Yeah, I was just―napping!” Hunk’s excuse was lame, but believable, and Lance had to really try and contain his laughter, “Yes, full day, needed a nap.”

 

“Oh,” Shay looked concerned, “Should I come back later, then?”

 

“No!” Hunk said  _ way _ too quickly, “I mean, no, you’re fine.  Can we go for a walk?”

 

Shay nodded, “That sounds lovely!”

 

Without another word Hunk pushed past Lance and out the door after Shay.

 

“Make good choices!” he yelled after the two of them, to which Hunk turned back and gave him the stink-eye.  Lance just laughed and turned back to his room, where Pidge was on the phone with someone.

 

“So you’re saying this is a butt-dial?”

 

The voice on the other end was deep and slightly monotone, but Lance couldn’t make out what was being said.

 

“Well then I guess he landed on your speed dial by accident, too?” her grin was absolutely fiendish, a look Pidge only got when she was being a little shit.

 

“Pidge, who are you talking to?”

 

A question was asked by the other person, and Pidge waved them off. “Look, you don’t need to explain yourself to me, Keith McStabberson, just as long as you’re not planning to gut Lance with a knife―”

 

The moment she’d said the name Keith Lance launched himself at the small girl. “Pidge!  Gimme my phone!”

 

“ _ Lance _ ?”

 

Oh god, it really was Keith.  His deep voice was much more pronounced when isolated over phone lines, and he really didn’t need to think about this right now.

 

After a bit of wrestling and smushing each other’s faces, Lance finally wrenched his phone from Pidge’s grip. “Keith?”

 

“ _ Did I catch you at a bad time? _ ” Lance could hear the smirk in his voice.

 

“Nah, Pidgeon, Hunk, and I were trying to figure out where we’re going to rent the movie from so we can watch it tomorrow.”

 

_ “You were serious about that?” _

 

“Uh, yeah.  Why wouldn’t I be?”

 

_ “I―”  _ Keith cut himself off,  _ “I don’t know.  But I think one of my roommates has the movie.  He mentioned watching it with his girlfriend the other day.” _

 

“You sure?  They won’t mind?”

 

_ “Yeah, it’ll be fine.  Jeremy won’t even notice it’s gone.” _

 

“Sweet.”

 

There was a pause between the two of them, not uncomfortable, but obvious.

 

_ “Well, I better get going.  Got a lecture to get to.” _

 

“Right,” Lance remembered all of the homework he had to get done before his night class, “See you tomorrow?”

 

_ “Yeah.  Bright and early.” _

 

Lance was smiling when he hung up the phone, then realized Pidge was still in the room.

 

“Your biggest rival, huh?” her grin was evil, “The bane of your existence?”

 

“Shut up!” he felt his face get warm and threw a pillow at her face.

 

She just cackled, the goblin, and adjusted her glasses, “Dude, you should see your face when you’re talking to him.  It’s like you just had the best cup of coffee, you’re so soft.”

 

“It does not!” he protested, “That’s how my face always looks, like sweet caramel.”

 

“Lance,” Pidge just stared at him, “We both know I’m not talking about your skin routine.  You talk about this guy all the time!”

 

Lance opened his mouth to object when he realized that he  _ did  _ talk about Keith a lot, “Well, I talk to him about you guys all the time.  Besides, I have a lot of Momo stories I tell, too!”

 

“Which usually involve Keith, who happens to coincidentally visit his grandma on the same days you’re there.”

 

“That doesn’t mean anything!”

 

“Yeah, like Hunk took that same geology course as Shay because he ‘ _ likes rocks’ _ .” she held up her fingers in quotation marks and raised her eyebrow.

 

Lance had no response to that.  He wasn’t going to lie and say he didn’t like spending time with Keith and Momo, but he felt Pidge was saying something entirely different.

 

“Pidge, I’m not―I mean―” he couldn’t seem to be able to phrase his words right, “It’s not like that.”

 

“Then what is it like?”

 

“I don’t know!” Lance felt like he was going to explode, “There’s just a lot going on for me right now, and I don’t have time for―” he waved his arms around, “Anything like that.”

 

Pidge looked skeptical, but she wasn’t Hunk.  She wasn’t the type to pressure and push Lance into saying everything he was thinking and feeling.  So she nodded, “Okay, but just know that ever since you met him you’ve been...I don’t know, happier?  Less stressed? It’s just―” she pulled off her glasses and looked hard at him, “I like seeing you this way.  And I’m looking forward to meeting this guy.”

 

Lance nodded, his brain trying to process all Pidge had said, “Okay.  Thanks, Pidge.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh hey look! We've finally reached the main story plot! Only took 4 months to get there *cries*
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! <3
> 
> I plan to post every 3 weeks on Saturdays, or sooner if I can get the chapters out fast enough
> 
> Come scream with me:  
> www.nerdy-cait05.tumblr.com


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